Mystery Valentine
by Awkward Markie
Summary: Serena, a senior and never been kissed, is searching for her Romeo. As Valentine's Day approaches, she is once again reminded of her single-ness. Her overly romantic heart dulls as the day approaches, but then she finds a love letter in her locker.
1. Chapter One

TITLE: "Mystery Valentine"  
  
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher  
  
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own "Sailor Moon," but this story is MINE (sry if I sound really possessive).   
  
A.N.:******PLEASE READ*******I know! I haven't finished my other stories. Well, let me do some explaining. "Christmas Dreams" is on hold because it's after Christmas, and I'm not in the mood to write a Christmas story. I will continue it. As for "Matchmaker Lane," I don't think I'll continue it. I have no idea where it's going. So for the time being it's cancelled. If you still want to read a Christmas story even though those holidays are long gone, tell me in a review. Same goes for this story. Feedback helps. Trust me. A warning, though: I will be very busy until the end of May. I have drama practice, homework, chores, the final play nights, strings concert,and much more. So, please bear with me. Now, on with the story...  
  
CHAPTER ONE...  
  
I couldn't believe it.  
  
Once again Valentine's Day was fast approaching, and like the years before, I was going to spend it alone. It was almost tradition, the sudden feeling loneliness that I always felt this time of the year. The sense of longing that pulled at my heart when I saw couples sneaking kisses was just another part of the holiday, right up there with roses, hearts, and chocolates.  
  
But I've never really wanted the usual expensive Valentine's gifts that guys always seemed to bring their girlfriends. No, I wanted someone to spend the holiday with, a special guy to hold me in his arms.  
  
Don't get me wrong! If a guy was to give me a banquet of roses, I'd accept them with a blush, but I've always wanted something simple, from the heart. A poem perhaps, expressing the undying love the sender felt for me.   
  
Every Valentine's Day, there is a part of me that is still hopeful, still wishing I'd find someone, and every year since the sixth grade on Valentine's Day, I'd search my locker, hoping to find a love note concealed in a red envelope. But after six years of searching my locker, I have come to the realization that my life is not a romance novel; and my prince charming won't come ridding into my life on a white stallion, no matter how much I wish he would.  
  
With my shoulders slumped, I made my way to the front of the school. The first bell had yet to ring, but most of the student body was already outside mingling while waiting for the bell to ring and to signal the start of yet another boring day, trapped inside the walls of Crossroads High.  
  
I made my way around the group of cheerleaders giggling and gossiping over a Voge magazine containing the latest fashion. I rolled my eyes as I passed them. Although I despise their kind, I will admit that I slightly envy them and their perfect hair. But never would I want to be like them. Their popularity comes with a price, a side of them not often seen. They look down on people without even knowing them, and I can't stand it when people do that, but I realize that they, too, are often misjudged.  
  
But I have heard of the wild parties that the cheerleaders and football players attend, the ones where they seem to forget that under aged drinking is against the law. An acquaintance of mine (I wouldn't call Sean a friend) belongs to their group, and I've heard him talking to some of his friends about the wild parties in which someone got so drunk that they got on top of a table and started dancing with a ceiling fan.  
  
I've been dubbed "innocent" by my friend Raye because I've never drunk and alcoholic beverage, never smoked a cigarette, and never been kissed.   
  
That's right, I've never been kissed. What else did you expect from a girl who's pathetic enough to search her locker every Valentine's Day, hoping to find a piece of paper containing the declaration of some guy's love for her?  
  
I headed towards the large oak tree in the middle of the courtyard where my gang of friends and I like to hang out in the mornings and during lunch. Lita and Raye had already arrived and were waiting.  
  
"Hey, Serena!" Lita called when she caught sight of me.  
  
"Sup?" Raye asked.  
  
"The sky." I smiled, knowing it irritated Raye when I answered like that.  
  
"You know what I meant, Meatball Head."  
  
Raye knew I despised the nickname, but she insisted upon calling me by it even after three years of not wearing the hairstyle that had prompted her to create the oh so dreaded name.  
  
It was time to bring out the big guns. "Raye, darling, you don't want me to accidentally slip out that big secret you told me, do you? I'm sure Lita would be happy to know that you forgot to let her in on it." Then I widened my eyes, placed my hand over my mouth, and feigned innocence . "Oops, I wasn't supposed to say that was I?"  
  
Raye seethed, and I smiled sweetly. It served her right; she knew I hated that nickname. Although, I felt a little guilty for pitting Lita up against her, but it wasn't my fault she decided not to tell Lita who her newest crush was. After all, Raye had known about Lita's obsession with gossip.  
  
But Lita was in no way a wimp. Her idea of fun was hitting something or arm wrestling any guy willing to go against a girl. She was, without a doubt, the tomboy of our group. Her desire to fight has also made her the "mother hen" of our group, always protecting and watching for trouble.   
  
I leaned against the tree, perfectly intent with watching the feud between the two. When I saw Amy making her way through towards us, I waved her over.  
  
"What has them so riled up this morning?" she asked in her shy sweet voice that sometimes unnerves me because it never changes pitch except when she's really steamed, and then it's duck for cover.  
  
"Raye called me Meatball Head. Then, I told Lita that Raye was keeping a secret from her. You know, the usual."  
  
Amy looked at me puzzled. "Raye has a secret?"  
  
"Yeah, but she was going to tell you guys later. The only reason I know is because I called her last night to ask her what we had for homework this weekend in Mrs. Day's class."  
  
I sighed and leaned my head back against the tree and stared through its empty branches. I could already tell that this day was going to be a long and cold one. Maybe I'd be able to get in some z's during first period. Who needs algebra anyway?  
  
I stubbed my toe in the earth and then began drawing hearts in the dirt but scrapped over them when I was once again reminded of my loneliness.   
  
"Hey! Over here!"  
  
I looked up to find my blond counterpart Mina running towards our group, weaving her way through a group consisting of most of the school's wrestling team and being obvious in her flirting. I watched as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and giggled as she brushed past Andrew, the captain of the wrestling team. I shook my head but then raised an eyebrow when I saw the love struck look in his eyes.   
  
Mina was the flirt of our group and also the most outgoing. When we first became friends, I thought she would fit in more with the cheerleaders. She had all the traits, like the bombshell body, the outgoing personality, and the slight ditzy-ness. But she was more into volleyball, and she wasn't so into her looks that she glanced into her mirror every five minutes. But she also accepted me for who I was; something the cheerleaders would never do.   
  
It wasn't because I was fat or had a face covered with acne. I was, well, to put it bluntly, clumsy. I had the tendency to trip when there was nothing to trip over. One specific incident came to mind: the time I tripped up during lunch with everyone watching. It wasn't my fault that some stupid boy decided to stick his foot out in my way. It had been most embarrassing. The worst part had been the laughing. I had been a freshman, but I can still hear that mocking laughter of those complete strangers whenever I think back to then. But my clumsiness wasn't a daily event anymore; so, I know I'm getting better.   
  
"Hey, Mina," I said once she had joined us.  
  
"Hey, girls." She looked over at Lita and Raye, who had by now stopped arguing. "Anything new happen?"  
  
"Nothing but the usual on this dreary Monday morning," commented Lita.  
  
At least somebody felt the same way I did.  
  
The bell rang, and the five of us headed towards our lockers, Raye and I going one way and the rest going another. When I reached my locker I dumped all my books inside and retrieved what I needed for algebra. I was about to close my locker, when, out of habit, checked it's contents.  
  
Nothing.  
  
No love note.  
  
I tried not to be disappointed; after all, it wasn't like I really had expected to find anything. I may have hoped, but expecting and hoping were two different things. I slammed my locker shut just as Raye walked up behind me.  
  
Together we walked to algebra, weaving our way through the throng of students. A freshman bumped into Raye, and she gave him her   
"death" glare. The acne covered teen cowered, and we laughed the rest of the way to class.   
  
We entered the classroom and made our way to the assigned seats that Mrs. Day made us sit in because after little over of month of having her as our teacher, she had still not learned all our names.   
  
Slowly the class filed in, and when the bell rang, Mrs. Day came in ready to teach even though half the class wasn't ready to learn.  
  
I tuned Mrs. Day out and focused my attention on the window and what lied beyond it. Dried brown grass and an endless grey sky covered much of my vision. It looked like it was going to snow, just like the weather guy had predicted. Hopefully, he'd be right, and school will be cancelled tomorrow.  
  
I continued to stare out the window, completely oblivious to what Mrs. Day was trying to teach. I wasn't worried, however, about my grade. I have already acquired enough credits to graduate, and I've already taken the needed classes to get into college, but the principal of my school makes seniors take one math class and English class. So instead of taking some AP calculus course like most of the advanced students do, Raye and I opted to take a class we had already taken to refresh our minds. But it seems, my mind didn't need much refreshing in Algebra 1; even though, I took it when I was a freshman.   
  
"Serena, what's the slope of the expression?" Mrs. Day asked, randomly picking a name off the list of names she had beside her.  
  
With drowsy eyes, I looked at the problem that was written on the overhead. Emotionlessly I answered, "Negative two-thirds."  
  
"Correct!" she smiled, and once again I tuned her out.  
An hour and a half later, the bell rang, and I practically ran for the door, Raye right behind me. After going to our lockers, we parted ways and headed to our second period classes.   
  
I walked into Mrs. Robinson's AP English class, and found a desk near the back. Since I liked English, I decided to further my education in it. It was my only advanced class.   
  
Amy walked in, and took a seat by me in the back. She may be a genius, but she is afraid of being called on in class to answer questions. So, she sits in the back with me.  
  
I think her insecurity to answer the questions roots from her want to never fail. I thinks she's afraid of what everyone would say if she got something wrong. After all, she has the reputation of being perfect.  
  
Mrs. Robinson walked in. She's a short, frail looking woman, who wears dresses three sizes too big and wears her short black hair in a style that resembled a mushroom. She's very eccentric and a little ditzy too, but I still enjoy her class. Although, she never gives you a moment of rest. Once an assignment is finished, another one is assigned. She doesn't stray off topic like most teachers, which is very unfortunate for me.  
  
Class began with a five paragraph essay, followed by some English exercises, and ended with a reading assignment.   
  
The bell rang and once again I was heading to my next class, but this time, it was my favorite. This time, I was heading to strings.  
  
I crossed the courtyard, passing the students who were lucky enough to have first lunch. The smell of their food had my stomach rumbling. It was torture to have all those delicious fragrances filling my nose.   
  
When I arrived at the strings classroom, I realized that once again, Mrs. Hart was late. Although her tardiness is just another part of the daily routine, it's still a pain in the ass to wait outside her room for her to arrive. But she has to teach at the nearby middle school, and once her classes are finished there, she drives to our high school. It can't be helped, I guess.  
  
Raye, who is also in my strings class, was waiting by the door, talking to the freshman bass player.  
  
"What you guys talking about?" I asked.  
  
"The latest Austin Powers movie. You seen it yet?"  
  
"No, I haven't even gotten around to renting the first one. Is it good?"  
  
Avery, the freshman, said, "Yeah, it's good- really hilarious."   
  
"Hey, Clumsy," a voice called.  
  
I didn't need to turn around to find out who the teasing voice belonged to. How could I not after a month of being teased by its owner and then childishly forming a growing crush on him? But I still turned around. It was as if I was making sure he was really there, and he was.   
Darien Shields stood tall and muscular in front of me. His blue eyes that always seemed to unnerve me, were boring into mine, and a smirk was on his lips, making his face all the more sexier. His hair was a little disheveled, as if he had run his hands through it over and over.  
  
I had to force back the grin that was fighting its way to the surface. It seemed that whenever he was around me, I wanted to grin like a fool. But I was able to turn the grin into a frown as I glared up at him, wondering what I could call him that I hadn't used already.  
  
"Meany!" Damn, this guy got to me.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that the best you could come up with?"  
  
"At the spur of the moment, yes." I sighed wishing I could come up with something more witty, like I usually was able to do, but today I seemed to be a little off.   
  
He smiled, but it was small and it didn't last. Come to think of it, ever since he moved to the area a little over a month ago, I have never seen him smile a real smile, one that reached his eyes. I wanted to see him smile.  
  
Mrs. Hart finally arrived, and we were ushered into the classroom that the band class also used during fourth period. As I looked around the classroom, I took in, once again, the retired, rusted tubas hanging on the wall parallel to the whiteboard and the trophy case filled with band trophies. The wall adjacent to the tubas consisted of some badly built cabinets that were painted an ugly grey and locked shut by combination locks. A broken piano sat in one corner of the room, out of tune and missing some keys. About thirty plastic chairs ranging from the color blue to the color orange were stacked in front of the storage rooms that, at some point in time, had been converted into offices for Mrs. Hart and the band director. The room needed a lot of work, but for some odd reason I couldn't get over the way I felt when I was in the room. Like, instead of a classroom, I was in the meeting place of a club.  
  
I had always felt that way, ever since my freshman year. Mrs. Hart had never seemed like a teacher; she was more like one of us. She would tell us of her wild times in high school, of the time she had her husband dress up as a tampon for Halloween, and of her son Charlie, who was a year old. We never did real work, a few worksheets here and there, maybe, but they were always easy. It just never seemed like a class to me.  
  
I walked to the grey cabinets and retrieved my violin case and walked back to the chair I had dumped my stuff beside. Once I had rosined my bow, I began playing a song that I learned in the seventh grade. For some reason, it had stuck with me.  
  
Raye sat down beside me, her violin in hand, but she didn't play. Instead she and Rachel, a junior, started talking about something.   
  
I, however, stopped playing when I heard the deep soothing notes coming from a cello- Darien's cello. Darien was, without a doubt, the best player in the class. His heart was in the cello; you could tell from the way he played, from the way the music just seemed to flow out of him and into his instrument. It was almost hypnotic to watch him play.  
  
Once he brought to class a piece he composed himself, and he played it for everyone. It had been beautiful, soothing and dramatic.   
  
I laid my instrument in its case and began to listen as he played "Cello's Olay," a piece Mrs. Hart currently had us working on. The deep resonance of the song filled the room, but I was the only one listening; everyone else was talking among themselves.  
  
My heart wasn't in the violin like Darien's was. I often wished that my music was as soulful as his, but I could never put my emotions into the violin. Plus, I think I'm tone deaf because my fingers never seem to be in the right place and my notes always end up sounding flat.   
  
I can, however, play the piano. As long as I can remember I've been playing, and I plan on playing way into the future. I'm no Mozart, but my heart is in the piano. In third period, I often find myself drawn to the broken piano in the strings classroom. I'll play a few notes, but I sometimes get thrown off by the missing keys. A few times, Darien has approached me while I was playing, but I always got nervous and stopped. I never have been able to play with someone looking over my shoulder.   
  
"Serena! Earth to Serena!"  
  
The voice shattered the oasis I created for myself, and I felt like punching the owner of the voice. After blinking my eyes a few times, I was able to see clearly the smiling face of Rachel.  
  
"Where'd you go?" she asked. At my blank look, she continued, "You spaced out. Where'd you go."  
  
"My own little world," I said simply.  
  
"Oh, well, anyway, I was asking you if you were going to the Valentines dance Friday."  
  
"No. I'm not going."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Boy, this girl sure is nosey. "No one's asked."   
  
I shrugged like it was no big deal, but on the inside I was upset at once again being reminded of how lonely I was. What is so wrong with me that I can't get a boyfriend?  
  
Rachel left, and I thought the questions were over But I was wrong; it was Raye's turn.  
  
"Why don't you ask a guy to the dance?" she asked.  
  
In return, I gave her the look that stated: "Come on. How many times have I given you the answer to this question?"  
  
"Oh, that's right," she said. "You're old fashioned. According to you, the guys should do all the asking and calling."  
  
"Your point is?"  
  
"This is the Twentieth Century, girl!"  
  
"I know what point in time it is, Raye, but you just have to understand that I'm not like you. I want a guy who pulls out chairs, opens doors, and knows how to be romantic. And when a guy does ask me out, I don't want it to be one of those 'Hey, babe, how about you and me go out this Friday' type things. I want it to be sweet."  
  
Raye looked long and hard into my eyes and then slowly stated, "You still have that love-note-in-the-locker fantasy, don't you."  
  
Raye knew me way too well. It was almost scary how she knew what I was thinking. But I guess can't expect anything less than that, considering we've been friends since the first grade.   
  
I bowed my head, "So what if I do?"  
  
"Life isn't a romance novel, honey. I doubt any guy in this school meets your high standards. And your love letter dream isn't going to happen, at least, not at this school."   
  
"I know, but it can't hurt to wish...can it?"  
  
"No, it can't." she smiled.  
  
The conversation was over, and I suddenly realized that sometime during mine and Raye's conversation, Darien had stopped playing.  
  
I turned to look at him, to see why he had stopped, and my eyes met his. A chill ran down my spine as he once again gave me the look that seemed to see right through me. I sincerely believe that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but I think Darien is the only person to be able to really see through mine.  
  
Our trance, however, was broken when Mrs. Hart decided to begin class, and to say I was thankful, was an understatement. Yet, there was the small part of me that had enjoyed knowing that I had been the sole focus of his attention. Then, there was the part of me that believed that no man would ever look at me in anything other than repulse; and at the moment, that part was saying Darien had been staring at something behind me.  
  
Third period was just like any other day after that little "event." We played a few songs, joked around, and looked a pictures of Mrs. Hart's son.  
  
The bell rang, and we rushed out of class, eager to get to lunch. I left Raye in my dust, as I practically ran to the cafeteria. I was hungry, I mean, come one, who wouldn't be at one o'clock in the afternoon?   
  
Yeah, that's right, I eat lunch at fucking one o'clock in the afternoon. Yes, second lunch sucks. I can only think of one good thing about it: All my friends get to suffer with me.  
  
I opened the cafeteria doors and shoved my way through the crowed of people to get in the pizza line. Once my pizza was in hand, I exited the lunch room, and made my way to the oak tree, where my friends- minus Raye- were already waiting.  
  
"Hey, Serena, how was strings?" Mina asked smilingly while raising her eyebrows up and down suggestively.  
  
I had known from the moment I told the girls about my crush that I'd be in for it, but I just can't keep a secret because they can see right through my lying. And Mina, well, she just knows when one of us has a crush.  
  
"Strings was fine." Then changing the subject, I asked, "Where's Raye?"  
  
"Dunno," Lita said, shrugging her shoulders and taking bite out of her own slice of pizza.  
  
"Maybe she signed up for the mentor program," Amy suggested.  
  
"Get real, Amy. You're the only one out of all of us that would even consider skipping lunch just to study."  
  
I nodded my head in agreement with Mina. Raye probably went to her locker or something. I looked around, hoping to find some sign of Raye, and sure enough I saw her walking our way.  
  
"'Bout time you showed up," I told her when she reached our group.  
  
"Sorry. I went to the restroom, and there was a long line," she explained.  
  
Odd, I thought when I heard what Raye had said. The direction in which I had seen Raye coming, was in the opposite direction of the restroom. I shook my confusion off, however when I considered she might have gone to her locker afterwards.   
  
I zipped my coat up as far as it would go when another gust of wind passed. It was warmer than it had been this morning, but it was still too cold for my tastes.   
  
"So, Raye," Mina batted her eyelashes. "What's this I hear about you and a certain Chad Porter?"  
  
I smiled at the look of absolute horror on Raye's face. As funny as I thought it was, I still felt her pain.  
  
I watched as Raye took a quick glance at where Chad was standing with his group of skate boarding buddies. He had long brown hair that hung over his eyes, and he wore baggy pants, a long T-shirt, and a chain hanging out of one pocket.  
  
As I looked between the two of them, I wondered if the "Sk8er Boi" song had been written for them. Only, as Raye's friends, we supported whatever decision she decided to make. I could care less what kind of clothes he wore; after all, he wouldn't be my boyfriend. Besides, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy, in a punk rock sort of way.  
  
"What's there to hear?" Raye asked.  
  
I knew Raye was going to beat around the bush, so I asked the question we were all wondering. "Do you like the guy or not?"  
  
Raye's eyes widened slightly at my bluntness, but it was the only sign she was uncomfortable. With her shoulders squared, her eyes blank, she answered, "Yes."  
  
We were all quiet a moment, and then Mina squealed, "I knew it!"  
  
"So this was the big secret from this morning?" Lita asked. When Raye nodded, Lita continued, "Some secret; I already had a feeling you liked the guy."  
  
"Was I that obvious?" Ray asked.  
  
Mina, Lita, and I nodded, and then Raye sighed.  
  
"If it makes you feel any better," Amy smiled, "I didn't know."  
  
"Oh course you didn't," Lita said teasingly to Amy. "You've been too busy to notice because your head's been stuck in that chemistry book."  
  
"Well, excuse me for wanting to make good grades."  
  
"Uh, Ames, " I said, "you already make good grades."  
  
"Yes, well, I'd like to keep it that way."  
  
When lunch was over, Mina and I headed to our fourth period and our last class of the day: psychology. Mr. Grant was our psychology teacher, and because he was our teacher, we were guaranteed to never have a dull fourth period.  
  
I remember my first day in his class. Instead of doing the boring introductory to the subject, we had taken the Pepsi challenge. At the beginning of class we had taken a vote of who liked Pepsi over Coke. Pepsi had gotten thirteen votes, and coke had gotten six. After everyone in the class had went up and taken the challenge, the end results had been: Pepsi, nine; and Coke, ten.  
  
Mr. Grant walked in, dressed in black slacks, a white button down shirt, and a red bowtie that really stood out. His long brown hair, that couldn't be defined as a mullet yet, was pulled back in a low ponytail. He often reminded me of a hippy that, because of his job, had to dress more professional.  
  
He sat down on his desk and waited for the bell to ring. When it did, he started speaking. "Today we are going to start class with a what-would-you-do question that I'd like you to answer in a complete paragraph." When the class groaned he said, "Sorry, I've got to give you some work, after all this is a- You're late." He said calmly to the student who had not successfully tried to sneak into the classroom. We all laughed, knowing what the unlucky student's punishment would be.   
  
Mr. Grant reached across his desk for the white dunce cap and handed it to the student. With sagging shoulders the student put the hat on his head and walked to the stool that was sitting in the corner of the room. With a slouched postured, he sat on the stool facing the wall.  
  
"Now, as I was saying, I want you to write a paragraph explaining what you would do it you were ever presented with this problem. Ready?" He looked around the classroom and saw that all eyes were on him. "Okay. Say I was to have ten guns laying on my desk, and I told you only one was loaded If I was to offer you a thousand dollars to pick up one of the guns, put it to your head, and pull the trigger, would you do it?"  
  
I hated questions like these because I always wanted to go deeper with the information given. I raised my hand.  
  
"Is there really only one loaded gun, or did you just tell us there was only one loaded gun, but there was really more?"  
  
Mr. Grant grinned, "There's only one loaded gun."  
  
I smiled and started on my essay. I chose not to pick up a gun, and my paragraph was straight to the point on why I would not risk my life. No amount of money was worth my life. I ended my paragraph with: "Plus, knowing my luck, I'd pick up the one gun with the bullet."  
  
When class was over an hour later, I parted ways with Mina, and headed to my locker to pick up my algebra book. I dialed in the combination, opened my locker, dumped in any books I didn't need for the night, and retrieved my algebra book and notebook. I was about to close my locker when Raye walked up beside me.  
  
"Are you still giving me a ride home?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I'll be so glade when my damn car is fixed," she sighed leaning up against a nearby locker. "Hey what's that?" she asked her eyebrows drawing together.  
  
"What's what?" I asked puzzled.  
  
"That red thing in your locker." She nodded her head in the direction of the partly closed locker.  
  
Confused, I opened it wider and stuck my head inside. And sure enough, on top of my English book, sat a red envelope. Slowly I reached a hand inside to retrieved it, and I closed my locker slowly without taking my eyes off the envelope.   
  
"What is it?" Raye asked it again.  
  
"I... I don't know." I said slowly, still staring at the envelope.  
  
"Well open the freaking thing."  
  
Slowly, I tore open the flap and pulled out the contents and unfolded the two pieces of paper that had been inside. With wide eyes, I read the paper on top.  
  
  
Serena,  
You remind me of a summer's breeze, warm and carefree. You captivate myattention, and I can't help the way my eyes are automatically drawn to you. You're the nymph, dancing and playing with my thoughts. When I'm away from you, you're all I think about. Will you ever think of me?  
  
  
Your Secret Admirer   
  
  
Flabbergasted, I looked at the second page and was surprised to realize that it was a written piece of piano sheet music, handwritten and, as far as I could tell, completely original. Whoever it was from had composed it by himself.  
  
I sighed dreamily at the romanticism of it all. My childish fantasy had actually come true, and it seemed like a too perfect dream.  
  
"Well," Raye cut in through the dreamy haze that had formed a cocoon around my mind.  
  
I handed her the letter, still slightly wistful in my movements. I watched her eyes grow as she scanned over the note.  
  
"Well, whada you know," she said, handing the letter back. "Your wish came true. Maybe there is a decent guy in this school."  
  
"Yeah."   
  
"Hey, you still with me? I'm not quite sure I trust you driving me home."  
  
Slowly I faded out of my shock completely, and once I was normal, I stuck my tongue out at Raye. I wasn't that big of a space-case, but I wondered if I had really acted like one.   
  
Was I really so pathetic that a simple love note in my locker can shock me enough that I become speechless? I mean, if one of the cheerleaders was to get a love note in their locker, I bet they would laugh, show it to their friends, and then dispose of it. Why would they care whether they got a note? After all, any guy they would want already seems to be chasing after them, and the guys don't seem to mind that their interests are public knowledge. Maybe that's the guys' tactics. Eventually the girl they're interested in will find out through the gossip mills.  
  
But I didn't want to find out a guy like me through a friend; I wanted him to tell me.  
  
Together Raye and I walked to the school parking lot that was, by now, close to being empty. I unlocked my car and climbed behind the wheel. Raye got in, but I didn't start the car.  
  
After a moment, she turned to me and said, "The car doesn't start unless you turn the key."   
  
"Seatbelt," was all I said to her sarcastic remark.  
  
"Oh, right. I forgot who I'm riding with, Miss. Safety."  
  
"Ha ha."  
  
I turned the key once Raye's seatbelt was in place, and exited the parking lot.  
  
"So who do you think it is?" Raye asked me, sounding so much like Mina it was almost scary.   
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Well, I bet I know who you want it to be, and I just want to warn you that you shouldn't get your hopes up. There's a good chance it isn't Darien."  
  
Way to go, Raye, bring me down when I'm at my highest.  
  
"I know."  
  
"Good. I just wanted to make sure you didn't have some fairy tale dream formed in your mind, and then have it shattered by a harsh reality."  
  
"I know, Raye, but if I didn't have my dream and fantasies, my life would be boring as hell."  
  
Raye stared at me a while before saying, "You know, I don't get you sometimes. One minute you're this happy, carefree person, and then the next you talk really wise."  
  
I stopped at a red-light and took the moment to look away from the road. "Your one to talk, Raye. You remind me of some guru that sits atop the highest mountain, wise beyond his years." I laughed as I pictured Raye sitting cross-legged on some mountain, meditating.  
  
"I have been considering Buddhism. The Path to Enlightenment sounds appealing," she smiled.  
  
"Very funny, Raye."   
  
The light turned green, and I pressed the gas petal. Raye turned on the radio, we sang to it the rest of the ride to her house.  
  
"Bye, Raye," I called as she exited my car.  
  
"Bye, Serena, see you tomorrow!"   
  
"I won't be at school tomorrow!" I smiled.  
  
"What? Why not?" Her brows drew together as she starred at me questioningly.  
  
"Because it's gonna snow!"  
  
She smiled and waved as I pulled out of her driveway.  
  
The ride home for me was a long one because I kept thinking about who my secret admirer could be. Could it be that freshman in my algebra class? Or maybe it was Justin, the quiet senior I tutored last year. Who could it be? But I found myself thinking more about who I wanted it to be.   
  
There was only one person that came to mind: Darien.  
  
I remember when he had first transferred to my school at the beginning of the semester. It had been the first day back from Christmas vacation, and by second period, the rumors of the hot new student had already reached my ears. But I hadn't paid them any mind.   
  
Alright, I had been a little curious.  
  
But when I arrived at the strings classroom, I was too drained to care. A few other of my classmates had already arrived and were waiting impatiently by the door. Mrs. Hart surprised us, however, by arriving early (before the bell!). Only half of the class was there because some students arrived purposely late, knowing Mrs. Hart would be late too.  
  
Instead of unpacking my violin, I approached the worn-out piano and began to play "Moonlight Sonata," my favorite piece by Beethoven. I became self-conscious, though, and stopped playing. I turned away from the piano just in time to see the classroom door open and Greg, a bass player, walk in followed by Darien.  
  
I suddenly had the urge to impress and to look in a mirror.  
  
Darien gazed around the classroom, and my heart jumped when it paused on me. I was suddenly very nervous and shy. Slowly I reached a hand back to the piano, hoping it would make me braver; but just as soon as his eyes fell on me, they were once again looking around the room.  
  
I was still unnerved, however, at my sudden attraction to him. Never did I so suddenly like a guy. Normally when I developed a crush, it formed slowly, based on the guy's personality, never his looks. But I hadn't even spoken to Darien, and I could already feel myself becoming drawn to him. It had scared me.  
  
If this was the new student- and I was sure it was- I could tell that the rumors about him were not only true, but understatements.  
  
"Serena!" a voice called.  
  
I shook myself out of whatever state I had been in and looked around to find the owner of the voice. Greg was standing not far away, smiling at me.   
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Come here, and meet a friend of mine," he said, referring to Darien.  
  
Numbly, I walked over to them. Somehow in my nervous state, I failed to notice the trombone that some careless band student had left in the middle of the floor. It seemed that the clumsiness I had tried so hard to get rid of during my freshman and sophomore years had returned, only to bite me in the ass because I managed to trip over the stupid instrument and fall right into Darien's arms.  
  
I looked up and met his eyes. My breath left me, and it seemed my legs did too because it felt almost impossible to stand.  
  
I continued to stare into Darien's eyes, trying to find a word that could describe them. Mysterious? Dark? Beautiful? They all seemed to apply; yet, to me, none of them could capture the way they truly looked.  
  
I have always read romance books in which a woman noticed a guy's eyes before any of his other features. I find that truly romantic; and a part of me has always wanted to have that happen in my life, the dream where I'm in a room crowded with people and suddenly make eye contact with a handsome man. Then, without realizing it, we walk towards each other and envelope each other in our arms as we begin to dance.   
  
But I have never noticed a guy's eyes first, at least, up until then. The romantic part of me jumped with glee when I realized it.  
  
But my happy thoughts had been shattered, however, by the teasing voice of Darien, "Jeeze, you sure are clumsy."  
  
I had humped, turned to Greg, and asked, "Where did you find this jerk?"  
  
Over the past month we have continued to banter back and forth like that. I know he's just teasing, and to be perfectly honest, I enjoy the attention, maybe more than I should allow myself.   
  
I pulled into my driveway and turned off the car, but I made no move to get out. With my hands resting on the steering wheel, I pondered what I would do when I found out who my secret admirer was.   
  
It wasn't Darien because even though he doesn't hang out with the cheerleaders and football players, he still has become popular. He could have any girl in the school, so why would he choose me?  
  
I got out of the car with one thought in mind: Even though it isn't Darien, I'll give the guy a chance. After all, any guy that can write like that, deserves a chance.   
  
But as I walked up the path to my house, I couldn't shake the gnawing feeling inside me, telling me that I wouldn't be happy unless it was Darien.   
TO BE CONTINUED...  
A.N.: Well...tell me how you liked it...or didn't. Also, tell me wheter or not you're up for a V-Day story when Febuary has already come and gone. Oh! And for those of you who have read my previous writing: Do you like my writing better in first person? 


	2. Chapter Two

TITLE: "Mystery Valentine  
  
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher  
  
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SAILOR MOON!!! (Darn it) But I do own this story. (Woohoo!)   
  
A.N.: I have this whole story planned out (maybe not the small details, but I have what's important planned). So, have no fear, I won't cancel this one like I did "Matchmaker Lane." This chapter is shorter than chapter one, but it took a while to get out because I wanted to finish chapter three first (I'm going to try and stay a chapter ahead of my posting. Sometimes I jump the gun, though).  
  
SPECIAL THANKS: To all my reviewers: I love you guys (sniffle); To Kris (fellow fanfiction.net writer and fellow wildcat): Thanks bunches for you opinions of this story before I decided to post it.   
  
Quote: A friend is not the person bailing you out of jail, but the person sitting beside you in your cell, telling you, 'that was awesome.'" A random friend of mine told me this. I have no idea where she heard it from.  
  
CHAPTER TWO...  
  
It snowed.  
  
I woke Tuesday morning to find the ground covered in the white powder. I'd like to say that the first thing that came to my mind was the beauty of the scene outside my window, the rising sun creating rainbows on the pale surface. But in all actuality, the first thing that came to my mind was: No school!  
  
As much as I hated it, though, I dragged my ass out of bed to flip the TV on to the local news station, just to make sure school was out. When I saw what I wanted to see, I switched the television off and joined my stuffed bunny in the warm sanctuary my down-filled comforter had created.  
  
About four hours later, I awoke to the knowledge that I had a whole day of freedom but no idea of what to do with it. Sluggishly, I wandered downstairs and into the kitchen, where my mother already had a breakfast ready.   
  
I watched as she hummed happily and danced to the eighties sound coming from the radio we kept on the counter. She was wearing one of the dresses she had made, that was terrible behind the times. Her hair was pulled back, but a few strands had managed to escape the bun as she rushed around the kitchen, retrieving things from cabinets and the refrigerator. She looked every part of a house wife.  
  
And that's just what she was: a house wife. It had come as a shock to me when I found out Mom had gone to law school when she was younger. But instead of continuing her education at Columbia Law, she dropped out when she married my father. There's no doubt in my mind that Mom could have been a great lawyer, but I can't picture her as one.   
  
For as long as I can remember, she has always been there to take me to girl scout meetings, chaperone any fieldtrips I had partaken on, and she had been head of the PTA when I was in elementary school. And then when she had my little brother Sammy, she focused her attention on him.  
  
"Isn't it great?" Mom sang in a sing-song voice when she noticed my presence. "You and Sammy get to stay out of school."  
  
This of course translates to: "Isn't it great that you get to help me around the house today?"   
  
I nodded my head as I began to set the table for three. I knew Dad was at work even though it had snowed. He never allowed snow to stop him from getting to his job. Dad was a photographer for the local newspaper, and he just about lived for his camera. At every birthday party, every award ceremony, and every major event in our lives, he and his camera were present. His camera was, as they put it, "an extension to his body."  
  
"Good morning, Mother."  
  
I groaned when I heard the annoying voice of my little brother Sammy. He has got to be one of the most irritating eleven-year-olds on the planet. I watched as the little faker walked up to Mom and hugged her. I knew what his intentions were: He wanted to get out of housework. Why couldn't the brat stay in bed?  
  
"What? No good morning for me?" I asked sarcastically.  
  
"I already know you're not going to have a good morning." He sneered, confirming my suspicions that he was trying to push all the work onto me.  
  
"You're right. I'm not having a good morning. I saw you, and suddenly, I don't have an apatite."  
  
"That's enough you two. Sammy, like it or not you are helping." His shoulder's slumped, and I smiled. But Mom wasn't finished, "And, Serena, your apatite is just fine. I expect your plate to be clean."  
  
I hope she didn't expect to hear any complaints from me because, had she been, she had set herself up for disappointment. I lived for food and it's many tantalizing aromas. But I bowed my head anyway and silently began eating; I was not about to give her reason to punish me.  
  
After breakfast, I washed the dishes, swept the kitchen floor, did the laundry, and cleaned my room. Three hours later, I flopped down on my newly-made bad and stared at the ceiling. With my chores finally complete, I was free to think about my secret admirer.  
  
Now that the reality of actually having an admirer had sunk in, I was finally able to accept that Darien was not the one who left the note in my locker. Yesterday I had been too caught up imagining Darien confessing he left the letter, that the possibility of it being someone else, had not concerned me too much. But now I was faced with the knowledge it had not been Darien but someone else's pen that had wrote the words.  
  
But I hadn't been so spacey yesterday that the idea hadn't completely occurred to me. I knew I would give whoever it was a chance, but I also knew it would be unfair to whoever the guy was if I was infatuated with another guy.  
  
I was confused as hell.  
  
Rolling over onto my side to stare out my widow, I began to think about other possible candidates. None came to mind. At least, none that I thought would know enough about me and my childish fantasy.  
  
As much as I dreamed of this actually happening, I never pictured it being so dammed confusing. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, feelings, and questions. Who was my mystery guy? What will I do when I find out who he is? Do I know him? How did they get the gum inside a Blow Pop?  
  
When the phone rang, I ignored it. But when My mom yelled from downstairs that it was for me, I languidly reached and arm out to pick it up off my nightstand.  
  
"Hello?" I asked.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me!" came the clearly distressed voice of Mina.  
  
"Tell you what?" I asked perplexed.  
  
"That you got a love letter in your locker! I had to find out from Raye! Did you hear me? I found out from Raye!"  
  
"I heard you, Mina." Loud and clear, I added silently.  
  
"Well, you still haven't explained why you didn't tell me!"  
  
"I guess I forgot."  
  
"You forgot." She said it in that slow, casual way that stated she didn't believe me one second.  
  
"Yeah, so what's your point?"  
  
"Never mind. So what did the letter say?"  
  
I smiled and read her the letter. I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped when I had finished reading the note; I was way too happy to care. I began to picture myself as one of the main characters of one of those cheesy movies, the ones that were made in the sixties and are so naïve and childish, yet you can't help but sigh at the end. I was Cinderella in Roger's and Hammerstein's: Cinderella, totally fake, but truly romantic.  
  
Mina sighed with me. "When you find out who this guy is, can you get him to teach Andrew a thing or to about being romantic?"  
  
I'm a little confused at this point. I always knew Mina had her eye on Andrew...and just about every guy on the wrestling team, the football team, and the track team. But since when has she had her eyes targeted on just Andrew?  
  
"Andrew?" I asked.  
  
"What, didn't I tell you? Andrew asked me to the Valentine's dance."  
  
"Why in the world did you not tell me this before?"   
  
"I must have forgotten."  
  
I could tell she was smiling, and it irked me the way she had used my own words against me. Come to think of it, my words always seem to find a way to come back and bite me in the ass.   
  
I groaned aloud so Mina could hear my annoyance, but my frustration was fleeting.   
  
"So, Mina, I want details!"  
  
I was always the one asking for details. I claimed it was because I had no love life; therefore, I had to butt into someone else's. But in actuality, it was because I was just as much a gossip freak as Mina and Lita; I was just a little less forthcoming.   
  
"Well," Mina hedged, knowing I was sitting on the edge of my seat. "Yesterday, I stayed after school for volleyball conditioning, and when it was over, guess who was waiting for me by my car?"  
  
"Keanu Reeves?" I asked sarcastically.  
  
"No, but I wish. Woo! What a hottie!" I imagined Mina fanning herself lightly with one hand and laughed.  
  
Once our laughter had died, I said seriously, "So what did Andrew do when you got to your car?"  
  
"How'd you know it was Andrew?"   
  
Instead of trying to explain it to my friend, also know as the blond headed ditz, I said sardonically, "I'm psychic."  
  
"Really?" she exclaimed, "I thought I was the only one. I mean, I'm always finishing other people's-"  
  
"Mina!"  
  
She stopped her babbling. "What?"  
  
"I was kidding."  
  
"Oh, well, so was I."  
  
"Anyway, tell me about-"  
  
"Hey! Can you hold on a sec? Someone's on the other line."  
  
I said sure and waited while she put me on hold. I busied my self by watching Sammy and the neighborhood kids duke it out in a snowball fight. I watched as Bobby Sims, the mama's boy from up the street, sent a snowball sailing into the air and right into Sammy's smug face. I smiled, maybe I'd join the fray later. After all, I thought with a frown as I stared at the patches of grass that were beginning to show around the yard, the snow wasn't going to last much longer.  
  
The white powdery snow I had woken up to early this morning, was now white slush, puddles of translucent mud. The snowman sitting in our backyard, that I can only assume Sammy made, was quickly losing a head as the noon sun continuously beat down upon it. Every once and a while, one of the ice sickles that had been reverently clinging to our roof, like tiny stalactites, fell; and I 'd watch it descend and shatter into tiny crystal shards.  
  
I jumped when I heard Mina's voice. "Hey, that was Andrew on the other line: so, I'll have call you back."   
  
"OK, see you tomorrow."  
  
We hung up, and I decided it wouldn't hurt to throw a snowball or two before it all melted. It wasn't often that it snowed this much in our area, and I wasn't about to let such a rare occasion be wasted by staying indoors.   
  
So after putting on my coat, hat, gloves, and boots; I joined the snowball war. Naturally, I was on the team opposite my brother. And like always, my team won. When the fight was over, Sammy and I went inside. Sammy, the sore loser that he was, pouted the rest of the day. I guess it wouldn't have been so bad to him if he hadn't been beaten by a girl- his sister, nonetheless.  
  
I shrugged out of my winter gear, and followed my nose into the kitchen, where lunch was being prepared. My mouth watered when I saw the hamburgers, but my saliva accumulation tripled when I opened the oven and found the cookies that were still baking. Leave it to Mom to know how to make a snow day even better.  
  
Later, I climbed the stairs to my room, cookie in hand. When I got to my room, I retrieved the love note I had found in my locker off my nightstand and began to read it once again. I still found it hard to believe that someone would actually write me a love note and slip it into my locker. And to top it off, the person composed some music and placed it with the note!   
  
The sheet music! I had almost forgotten about it!  
  
I grabbed the music and rushed downstairs to the piano. After completing a few scales to warm up, I began to play the music composed by my admirer. The music was hauntingly slow and beautiful. It was full of emotion that seemed to come from deep within the soul. The crescendos and decrescendos only added to the magical sound that poured from my fingers. It made my heart pound and press against my ribcage. But as soon as the enchantment began, it came to a sudden stop.   
  
I stared at the end of the page and realized forlornly that my admirer had only given me the first page of his piece. I was left hanging, wondering what was to come. It was like a two-part episode of my favorite television show; it ended right where I didn't want it to.  
  
But I continued to play it over and over, driving my brother insane. My mother, on the other hand, was curious to where I had acquired such "as lovely piece of music." I didn't tell her, though, partly because I knew she would bug the hell out of me for details, but mainly because I was selfish and wanted to keep it, the letter, and secret admirer to myself. But then again, the girls knew about everything. Then I thought about it some more and decided it was still my secret because they hadn't heard the soothing notes.   
  
Eventually my father got home and wanted to watch the evening news; so, I had to go to my room. But I decided to make the best out of my entrapment and signed onto the internet. I visited a few of my favorite sites, but after an hour without not one of my friends getting on, I decided to get off. But then a screen popped up and asked if I wanted to accept and instant message from TUXNROSES.  
  
I had no idea who this person was, but there was always the chance one of my friends changed their screen name. So, I clicked accept and watched as TUXNROSES's message appeared.  
  
  
  
TUXNROSES: Did you get my letter?  
  
  
  
My stomach jumped into my throat, and my heart began to beat wildly. Was this one of my friends playing a joke on me? No, they wouldn't do this. How did this guy know my screen name? What do I say?  
  
With unsteady hands I replied:  
  
  
  
JUNEBUNNY30: Yes. The music was beautiful, but where's the rest?  
  
  
  
I waited impatiently for his reply, but my wait wasn't long.  
  
TUXNROSES: Waiting for me to give it to you.  
  
I had no idea how to reply to that, so I just typed the one question that I really wanted to know.  
  
JUNEBUNNY30: Who are you?  
  
The answer I got was not the one I wanted; if fact, it wasn't even an answer.  
  
  
  
TUXNROSES: Your secret admirer. I must go now.  
  
I tried to send a message to him before he got off, but he was no longer signed on. Determined to find out who TUXNROSES was, I checked his profile, but there wasn't one. Crestfallen, I signed off.   
  
Later that night, I lay in bed, the internet conversation on my mind. The same questions and thoughts that had occupied my focus yesterday afternoon, were now a boiling soup in my mind, burning and swimming. I kept imagining what I would do once I found out who it was. Would I be happy or disappointed? Would I smile a genuine smile or a polite one? Would it be Darien?  
  
No, it wouldn't be Darien. He's everything I'm not. I rolled over and buried my head into my pillow, imagining what I would do when I found out it wasn't Darien. I, of course, imagined myself being polite and sincere, but I knew that I'd never be capable of masking the disappointment I knew I'd feel with a smile. I was too transparent with my feelings.  
  
Whenever I was feeling down, everyone knew. Whenever I was happy, everyone knew. Then I began to wonder if I was also transparent when I had a crush, like the one I have on Darien. What if someone knew about my crush and decided to play some sick joke on me so I would think it was Darien? No, if I'd been that obvious, one of my friends would have told me...right?  
  
My thoughts traveled down roads never traveled, and I began to wonder if I'd ever get some sleep with the way my mind kept running, and running, and running, like the Energizer Bunny. I began to wonder if Sammy was up. I knew he'd be willing to give me a few hits on the head to knock me out.  
  
Finally, determined to get at least two hours of sleep, I tried to shut off my thoughts and begin focusing on my breathing. When that didn't work, I counted sheep. Around number 4,672, I fell asleep.   
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
A.N: Well, I hoped you liked it. I know it's short, but you have the next, longer chapter to look forward to. Now I have to start on chapter four. 


	3. Chapter Three

TITLE: "Mystery Valentine"  
  
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher  
  
DISCLAIMER: *sigh* why do I even bother writing this.  
  
A.N.: Hi!! I'm back for another chapter. Sorry if I kept you waiting. I'm am surprised at how well this story is coming along. The only thing holding me back is my lack of motivation (I tend to procrastinate), but once I find it, everything flows. I've also been coming up with possible ideas for my next story. I might leave it up to you, the readers, to decide which one I will start posting next. There are two that I'm most likely going to let you guys choose between in a later chapter. Tell me how you like this chappy. ^_^  
  
CHAPTER THREE...  
  
"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Mina commented as I joined her and the rest of the gang by the tree Wednesday morning.  
  
"I didn't wake up," I said with a yawn. "I sort of fell out and sleepwalked through my morning regime."  
  
"Regime?" Mina asked confused.  
  
Too tired to answer, I let Amy answer for me. "It means schedule, routine."  
  
"Oh." Then changing the topic, she asked, "Figure out who your secret admirer is yet?"  
  
"Secret admirer?" Lita asked, ears perked for gossip.  
  
I was suddenly awake and, believe it or not, eager to tell all about my admirer. I was just a little surprised, however, at the fact that Mina hadn't already told them. I wasn't surprised, though, that Raye didn't tell them. She knew about the letter too, but she never could take medaling questions from anyone, let alone Lita.  
  
I told Amy and Lita about everything, the letter, the beautiful sheet music, who I thought it might be, and who I wanted it to be. Everything. They listened, and when I was finished talking, they asked questions and made girly comments.  
  
"You are so lucky! I want a guy to be that romantic," Mina sighed, starry-eyed.  
  
"What about Andrew?" I asked, assuming she had already told the rest of the girls about her new boyfriend. I had been right.  
  
"Oh, he's sweet and all, but I don't think he'll ever be Nora Roberts romantic," she said, referring to one of her favorite romance writers.  
  
"You never know," Raye said knowingly, "he might be the type who may not be romantic every hour of the day, but on a date, he'll take you to some fancy restaurant and pull out your chair."  
  
"Yeah, you're right. I guess I am lucky." She giggled, and I watched as she waved at Andrew, who returned the wave along with an added goofy smile. Mina sighed, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say they were in love.  
  
Yeah right!  
  
I don't believe someone can fall in love that fast. And love at first sight is totally out of the question. How can anybody fall in love with someone they've never had a conversation with? Laughed with? Cried with? I just don't see how it's possible to know a person is your soul mate without knowing them.  
  
It's odd really, how I can't believe in love at first sight, yet I can believe in the concept of soul mates. Maybe I just want to believe in soul mates so bad that my romantic nature overrides my rationality.  
  
The bell rang, and I rushed to my locker, hoping to find another note. But when I got there, a red envelope wasn't waiting for me. I was sad, and I hated it. I hated the fact that I was pathetic enough to allow a love note to be that important to me. I have a life.at least I think I do.  
  
"Did you get another note?" Raye asked coming up behind me, peering into my locker.  
  
"No," I said disappointedly, tears actually forming. Why did it have to be so important to me?  
  
Raye, who noticed my glumness, tried to be optimistic, which is usually my job. "Cheer up, gal! You didn't get your note Monday until the end of the day. Maybe that's the only time this guy can get to your locker."  
  
I thought about it and realized she was right. Whoever this guy is, he must have time to go by my locker at the end of the day. sometime he's sure a lot of people won't see him. Then it hit me. He must go by my locker during lunch!  
  
But did he have first or second lunch? If he had second, I could stake out my locker and hopefully catch him, but if he had first, I'd never find out who he was unless he told me.  
  
I began to wonder if I should stake out my locker, but thought against it. It was like at Christmas time when all I thought about was what could be in the tightly wrapped gifts. Then once they were opened, the magic was gone to me. The mystery, the climax that lead to the discovery, was the best part. The only thing that could beat it, I think, would be to find out my admirer was Darien.  
  
I smiled, and Raye and I headed to first period, chitchatting along the way. We got to class, found our seats, and waited for Mrs. Day to start yet another boring class, talking about slops, y-intercepts, and inequalities. Lucky me.  
  
First was a bore, and second, surprisingly, was too.  
  
Usually something funny would happen during second because Mrs. Robinson was known to say and do stupid stuff during class. But today she didn't. She didn't say some corny joke that the class laughed at not because it funny but because it was stupid. But today, she was rather boring- more than usual. Maybe she had a cold or an incurable disease.  
  
When class ended, I was very willing to leave. Someone would have to chain me to the wall to keep me there. But seeing there wasn't anyone who would want to put me through that torture, I was free to go to my locker and get my third and fourth period books.  
  
When I arrived at the strings room, I was astonished to find there wasn't anyone waiting outside the classroom. I peered through the glass pain in the door, and was surprised to see students standing around the room. I opened the door and immediately noticed the substitute standing off to the side.  
  
Mr. Ashley was a tall, thin black man in his early forties. In his hands, he held a hat, that reminded me of the ones cab drivers wear in movies; and a briefcase, that the contents have remained a mystery to all the students attending Crossroads High in the past ten years.  
  
I smiled, knowing I wouldn't have to play my violin today. Today would be a day for us to goof off, and a day for me to try and get closer to Darien. The prospect sent my heart fluttering.  
  
What would I say? No idea.  
  
Would I trip, fall, or embarrass myself in any way? Most likely.  
  
Well, I was not about to let this prospect go to waist. I was going to get to know Darien if it was the last thing I did. I just hope I don't embarrass myself in the process. I'd hate to have to transfer to another high school in the middle of my senior year. That would suck.  
  
"Hey, Serena. Do you have that music with you?"  
  
"You mean the music I got from-" What exactly did I call him? My secret admirer? That just sounded too corny, but that was exactly what this guy called himself. The thought of making this guy public embarrassed me because I knew everyone would clamor around me and ask questions. Sure I was excited at the prospect of someone with a crush on me, but I didn't want the whole world knowing it. I kind of liked keeping it to myself.  
  
"Yeah, the one you got from your secret admirer."  
  
To my ears, it had seemed as if Raye had screamed the sentence. Damn you, Raye, I thought as I suddenly became the center of everyone's attention, something I was not- I repeat- not used to unless it was the result of my falling on my face. God, help me.  
  
"What secret admirer?" Rachel asked, stars in her eyes.  
  
"You have a secret admirer?" Alana, head cheerleader and total bitch, asked skeptically.  
  
I can't stand Alana, and to have her ask if I had an admirer so unbelievingly was both ego boosting and saddening. It sent a jolt of pure happiness though my bloodstream to know that, for once, I was the one getting love notes; I was the one being sought after. But the jolt was put out when I realized how farfetched these things happening to me seemed to people like Alana.  
  
But I chose not to allow people like Alana, with the perfect hair and sour attitudes, get to me because after high school, I'll never see them again. I smiled politely and tried to listen to the questions I was being asked. Who is it? When did you get the letter? What did the letter say?  
  
There were so many questions, I couldn't even tell who asked which one. I was left to stand there, in the middle of the group with my mouth flapping open like a fish.  
  
"Play it!" I heard Raye yell over every else.  
  
If she meant that I play the music that had been left in my locker, then she must be nuts. Not only was I absolutely terrified of playing in front of everyone, but I also didn't want to play for more selfish reasons. It was our song, and I didn't wasn't any of them to hear it. By "our" I meant my admirer and me. If I was to play the song, it felt as if I was breaking something sacred.  
  
But then there was this tiny part of me wanting to impress everyone, wanting to show off my abilities and the creation some guy had composed for me of all people.  
  
I heard the classroom door open, and out of human curiosity, I looked over at the doorway. There, standing proud, tall, and arrogant, was Darien Shields, one eyebrow cocked as he stared at the group around me. I gulped.  
  
"Come on, Serena play it for us?" I chose to ignore the question, and opted for trying to escape the small mob. Raye caught me by the arm and drug me aside during my quest for escape.  
  
"Why won't you play it? And don't give me that 'I'm too shy bullshit.' You can play really good. You know it; I know it. So what's you're problem?"  
  
I wanted to tell Raye about how it would feel as though I were breaking some bond if I played the song, but I knew she would think I was being childish and silly. "I just don't want to," I lied through my teeth, and she knew it.  
  
"What's the real reason?" she asked, hands on hips.  
  
I bowed my head, knowing that sooner or later she would have dragged it out of me. "I just feel as though I'd be breaking a promise or something by letting others hear it."  
  
Raye didn't laugh as I had expected her to. Instead she smiled and said, "I can see where you're coming from, but say the guy was in this room, don't you think he'd like to hear you play the song he wrote for you? Don't you think he'd like to watch the emotions playing across your face as you play the song? I bet that if he was in this room right now, he'd encourage you to play."  
  
I smiled at Raye, "Have you been reading my romance novels?"  
  
Perplexed she asked, "Why do you ask that?"  
  
"No reason," I smiled again, bigger this time.  
  
"So are you gonna play?"  
  
"I don't know." I was still reluctant.  
  
"Hey, what's going on?"  
  
I jumped at Darien's sudden participation in our conversation. My hands suddenly got clammy, and all thoughts escaped my mind. Why is it that when I'm at home I can think of a ton of conversations I could have with Darien, but when the opportunity to have those conversations arises, I'm never able to think of those perfectly, well thought out topics? It seems that when Darien is near, all rational thought escapes me.  
  
"Oh, I'm just trying to encourage Serena to play this music that some guy left in her locker. She won't play it because she'd afraid that the guy wouldn't want her to play it."  
  
I can't believe Raye actually told him that! I could kill her! Figuratively, of course. I thought she understood that that was private! Now, I felt like a small child, with stupid childish thoughts, living a stupid childish fantasy. Surely Darien must think I'm a geek by now.  
  
I risked a glance at Darien, but instead of seeing the teasing smirk I had expected, I saw a more thoughtful look in his eyes. To say I was confused was an understatement. Why wasn't he laughing his butt off? More importantly, why was he staring at me like that?  
  
But just as soon as I saw the look, it was gone, replaced by a small smile.  
  
"Come on, Serena. I'd like to hear you play."  
  
Did I just hear that right? Darien Shields wants me to play? Me, also know as Clumsy? I knew my eyes must have lit up I was so excited. I mean, why wouldn't I be excited? The guy I have had a crush on for more that a month actually wants to hear me play! At the moment, I could care less whether or not my admirer wanted me to play the music. Darien wanted me to play, and that was all that mattered.  
  
With my spirits high, I rummaged through my book bag for the folder containing the music. After I found it, I sat down at the piano; and nervously, I began to play, the notes that, once again, began touching my very soul. My fingers drifted across the dusty keys in a rhythmic ballet, leaping with every note I played. In my mind, I tried to form a picture to go with the song, but nothing I could think of seemed to fit the notes escaping from the aging instrument.  
  
My eyes closed as I shockingly realized I had memorized most of the song. I allowed the song to take over, allowed it to fill that missing part of my soul for that brief moment. But then it was over. The song had reached the last note, the room became silent, saddened at the loss of the beautiful sound that had roamed through it.  
  
I looked around the room at the faces of everyone around me. Each face held a different expression, but I didn't have enough courage to look at Darien. Instead, I placed the music back in my folder and moved away from the piano as everyone complemented me on my "performance." I knew I had to be blushing to the very roots of my blond hair.  
  
But my performance was quickly forgotten as we searched the classroom for something to occupy the rest of class with. Avery and Ashton, a sophomore cello player, began searching the movie cabinet, hoping to find a movie we hadn't already watched ten hundred times. Instead, they came across a couple of surgical gloves and began passing them out to anyone who was interested. Raye, Darien, Avery, Megan, Ashton, and I all grabbed a glove and marker. Alana and her group were on the other side of the room, talking about who-knows-what.  
  
We began blowing up the gloves and drawing faces on them. Mine got a hole in it, and I watch dejectedly as it deflated. I watched as Ashton began blowing up his glove as much as he could, only to have the air come rushing back into his mouth, accompanied by the white powder from inside the glove. We all laughed.  
  
Somehow, one of us got the bright idea to play volleyball with one of the larger blown up gloves. Even Alana and her group joined us. So, I was on a group with Darien, Ashton, Avery, and Raye. On the other team, there was Rachael, Sean, Alana, Megan, and Greg.  
  
We moved everything that could get in our way as we were playing and then began the game. The other team served first and it went far behind everyone on our group. I went chasing after it, but because my eyes were on the glove, I failed to notice the chair in my way. I fell but managed to keep the glove in the air (The point was not to allow it to touch the floor).  
  
"Are you okay, Clumsy?" Darien asked teasingly. But had there been a hint of worry too?  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. I drink lots of milk."  
  
The game resumed, and I managed not to get hurt the rest of the game. Well, there had been the incident where Raye and I both went after the glove, and instead of hitting the glove, Raye had hit me in the face. But that had been her fault, not mine.  
  
When the bell rang for lunch, I was flushed from excitement, being close to Darien, and a little from exertion. As I headed towards the tree where I met my friends, I was suddenly reminded that now would be the time in which my admirer would put something in my locker. I was tempted to do a stakeout, but I liked the anticipation. Finding out who he was now, would only ruin the fun.  
  
"So what did you do in strings?" Lita asked.  
  
I told her about the song, the game of glove-ball, and the incident in which Raye had smacked me in the face.  
  
"She didn't?" Mina asked on the verge of a laughing spell.  
  
"She did! I have the bruise on my nose to prove it!" It was true; I really did have a bruise on my nose.  
  
"Oh, come one, Serena. It isn't that bad," Raye said as she approached our group, pizza in hand.  
  
I pouted, but didn't say anything. My mind just wasn't with me today for some reason. Instead, it wanted to wander, thinking about everything but nothing all at once. Weird, huh? I glanced around, my eyes roaming over the different groups of people scattered around the courtyard.  
  
Chad was with his group of friends, trying to accomplish some skateboarding trick I didn't know the name for. He seemed content, his pants riding low, the chain dangling out of his pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Raye wasn't paying much attention to the girls' conversation either.  
  
Beside a wall not far away, the group many have dubbed The Freaks were smoking cigarettes and not doing a very good job at hiding it either. If they have to smoke on school property, the least they could do was hide it better. I watched as one guy took a drag, lowered the cigarette to below his waist, and started walking back and forth in his imitation of someone being innocent. If it wasn't for the guilty way his eyes looked around and the cloud of smoke rising from his lowered hand, I'd almost believe he was completely innocent.  
  
Then, in a large group hanging around the cafeteria doors, were the popular people, also called The Preps by The Freaks. This group consisted of just about everyone who participated in a sport- cheerleading included. Among them I noticed a few of my friends, like Greg, Ken, Andrew, and of course, Darien. I also saw Alana among the crowd of letterman jackets. It was funny, really, how movies and books make it seem like that would be the desired group to be in, but I felt nothing like that. All I felt was pity because they spend their whole school lives trying to live up to those expectations, but when they get out into the real world, being named prom queen won't matter on their job application.  
  
I gazed around my small group of best friends and pondered how we were able to be such good friends when our personalities are so different.  
  
Amy, the four time state chess champ, was the brain of our group. She was the one that forced us to study for our exit exam until our eyes felt as though they would fall out of our heads. She has never been a wild child and her only moment of being a rebel was when she dyed her normally short brown hair blue. She surprised us all by continuing to dye it that color. I'm even more surprised, however, that she hasn't gotten in trouble at school (unnatural hair color is against the rules).  
  
My eyes landed on Raye next. She is the one with the short temper and killer tongue. There are times when I'm in an argument with her that I'd swear I saw fire in her brown eyes. Her olive skin and coal black hair are the envy of every girl in school; yet, she never enters the pageants. I don't know why, though, because not only does she have the appearance part down, but she has a talent that could blow everyone out of the water. Her singing voice is best there is. But Raye is an introvert, and she rather blend into the background than be the focus of everyone's attention. But she does manage to come out of her cocoon whenever there is a school musical. Of course, she needs a little push from Mina and me.  
  
Then there was Mina, the total opposite of Raye. She's your typical blue-eyed blond, who thinks the most important things in life are cute actors and fashion. Her dream is to become a famous actress and live the life of the stars. I just hope she won't forget about little old me when she reaches her goal.  
  
Lita had to be the backbone of our group. She's always ready for a fight, no matter how bad the odds are. If she gets her ass kicked, it's just another excuse to toughen up. To Lita, life is just a video game in which you have to fight your way to the next level. She's the most independent one of our group, not to mention the most protective. She has the tendency to be really reclusive when she is around people she isn't really good friends with.  
  
And, of course, there is me, the clumsy one of our group. I was a mixture of everyone else. I was smart, just not as smart as Amy. I was reclusive like Raye and Lita, and I was a dreamer like Mina.  
  
I guess our group could be called The Leftovers because, basically, we're left over from everyone else. We don't fit in with every other group, but we don't want to. Different is how we like it.  
  
"Hello, girls."  
  
I averted my attention to the new speaker, and was surprised to find Ken standing near our group. Ken has been Lita's best friend since she was in kindergarten, ever since she tackled him after he stepped on her pile of sand she had claimed was a castle. It wasn't until recently that Lita realized her view of him as a friend changed into something new. Of course, Amy, Raye, Lita, and I already saw it coming. If fact, we had had a pool going for when Lita would finally realize it. Amy won it. Now, there's a pool going for what day Ken will ask Lita to the Valentine's Day dance.  
  
"Can I speak to you, Lita?" Ken asked, while giving us a look that stated he wanted to speak to her alone.  
  
I watched them walk away and stop just out of my hearing range, but that didn't stop me from trying to read their lips. After all, I had twenty bucks riding on that today would be the day he'd ask her to the dance.  
  
"Can you hear what they're saying?" inquired Mina over my shoulder. I shook my head and continued to watch the pair a few feet away. "He's asking her to the dance, isn't he? Well?" She asked impatiently.  
  
"How the hell are we supposed to know?" Raye asked, just as impatient.  
  
"Here they come!" Amy whispered, franticly. "Act normal!"  
  
Lita and Ken walked back to our group where we were pretending to have a nice, normal conversation.  
  
"Nice weather we're having."  
  
Very smooth, Mina, I thought sarcastically. I saw Raye's annoyed look, and I knew that I wasn't the only one thinking about how ditzy Mina was. She had to be a couple of fries short of a Happy Meal, or may be a couple of fries and a chicken nugget short. It really didn't matter what she was missing; it was just important to know she wasn't all there sometimes.  
  
"Yeah, I love it when it's thirty degrees outside," I deadpanned.  
  
"And look at those cloud formations," Amy gushed, adding her part to make the topic of the weather more believable.  
  
Raye just rolled her eyes, thinking the same thing I was: No one would believe that this was an actual conversation. At least, it wouldn't be talked about among a group of teenage girls. Now, a group of old men sitting outside an old convenience store was possible.  
  
"See yah later, Lita," Ken said, leaving Lita alone with us and our inquiring minds.  
  
"So-o?" I asked.  
  
"So-o what?" Lita asked, but I could tell she knew what I was asking. She had that small tilt to the corners of her lips that told me she was dying to tell us, but she wanted to keep us waiting.  
  
"Lita!" Mina whined, curiosity clearly getting the best of her.  
  
"Fine! He asked me to the dance. You happy?"  
  
"You sound upset." Amy said, confused.  
  
"Of course I'm upset! What am I supposed wear?" She exclaimed, and it looked like she was clearly distressed.  
  
"There, there, Lita," Mina cooed, patting Lita gently on the back. "Tomorrow we'll all got to the mall to look for dresses."  
  
"Really?" she asked, pretending to sniffle.  
  
I laughed, as did Amy. Amy and I could tell that both Mina and Lita were acting. It wasn't uncommon for some of our group to play act like this. We often did if for laughs.  
  
We weren't big clothes freaks, but on special occasions, such as the dance, we always have the need to impress our guys. That is, if we had one.  
  
"Aw, shit!"  
  
We all turned to Raye, as she searched through her book bag, clearly distressed.  
  
"What is it, Raye?" Amy asked.  
  
"I forgot to do the rest of my English homework and I left my book at home!"  
  
"What are you going to do? Don't you have English next period?" Lita asked.  
  
Raye turned to me, "Can I borrow your book, so I can go to the library right now and finish it? Please." She begged.  
  
"Sure, but it's in my locker. Do you need my combination?"  
  
"Oh, thank you! Yeah, I need your combination."  
  
I quickly wrote it down and gave it to her. We all watched as she ran in the direction of my locker. The only other person I had ever seen that eager to do their homework was Amy, and to compare Anger Management Raye to timid Amy was just plain freaky.  
  
I yawned and rolled my shoulders, trying to get over the drowsiness from earlier that still wouldn't go away. It wasn't my fault that I hadn't been able to sleep. If you ask me, it was my admirer's fault that I spent half the night thinking about him and humming our song in my head. It was all his fault I couldn't stop thinking about him.  
  
Yeah, keep telling yourself.  
  
But I did find it strange how I was obsessing over this guy, a guy that was a stranger to me. For all I knew, this guy was a complete loser or a stalker of some- wait, what if he was a stalker!  
  
That put a whole new twist on this. I could have some crazy maniac obsessed over me. He could decide he wanted to kill me and bring a gun to school and-I've seen the movie Bodyguard, and I refuse to allow my life to turn into a life like the one Whitney Huston portrayed in that movie. Nuh- uh, there was no way I was going to allow Darien to jump in front of a bullet to save my life, no matter how romantic it sounded.  
  
Then there was Darien, another, slightly larger, problem weighing on my mind. Yes, I had a huge crush on him, but that was all it was, just a crush. I knew a tad more about him as I did about my admirer, and the only reason I knew those small tidbits, was from overheard conversations during strings and what my friends knew. It wasn't much.  
  
How could I like this guy when I knew so little about him? I've never fallen into "like" with someone so quickly as I did with Darien. I began to wonder if something was wrong with me. Was I turning into one of those girls who liked more than one guy at once? I hope not.  
  
It made me mad that I was thinking about what it would be like to be Darien's girlfriend and my admirer at the same time. It seemed like I was cheating on one of them. But on which one, I had know idea.  
  
Then it hit me: I must give up on one of them.  
  
How the hell am I gonna choose? was the next thing that hit me.  
  
I liked Darien. My admirer liked me. Should I just be mean and blow off my admire to go after Darien, or should I just forget about the unattainable Darien? I didn't want to settle for less, but I didn't want to pine after someone that wouldn't give me a chance. In the end, I chose to wait before making a decision.  
  
The bell rung, and I headed to fourth, where we spent the whole class learning about different phobias: the fear of water, the fear of heights, the fear of clothes, and the rest of them.  
  
I usually enjoy fourth period, with Mr. Grant and his entertaining teachings, but today I found it as boring as Mrs. Day's class. Today, it was just another class, delaying me from something more enjoyable: drama club.  
  
Right before Christmas, there was an announcement asking people to sign up for drama club. Naturally, I saw this as a way to get more involved in school, considering I hadn't been that active in my years before. My friends weren't too happy, however, when I decided to drag them into it. Well, Mina had been pretty excited. Somehow, Lita and Amy had been able to weasel their way out, though.  
  
When the final bell of the day rang, I was out of Mr. Grant's classroom. I went to my locker to get any books I'd need for homework and my script for the play. As I was dialing in my combination, I remembered my admirer. I paused before opening my locker, wondering if he had left me anything today.  
  
Sure enough, when I opened my locker, there was something left inside for me. But instead of a letter, there was a rose accompanying the second piece of the music. It wasn't in full bloom yet, but the petals were still soft and as crimson as blood. I sniffed the delicate flower, like any normal girl would do, and I found the scent of it to be sweet.  
  
With a romantic sigh, I got my needed books, shut my locker and then walked to the auditorium in a daze of pleasant thoughts. It wasn't until I walked into the cool auditorium and saw the rest of the actors and actresses that I returned to my normal state.  
  
I walked down the middle aisle, imagining all the wooden seats filled with people watching our play, that was still in the beginning stages. I had a good feeling about the play; I knew it was going to be a hit. It was an alumni version of Bye, Bye Birdie. We have people who graduated as far back as ten years ago agree to have some part in the play. I don't really know a lot of them, and the one's I do know, I more or less recognize by their faces or names.  
  
Raye, Mina, and I are in the play, which is a good thing because when we first started practices, I knew at least two people. It's too bad Lita has to work after school, and Amy claims to have too much studying to do. Oh, well.  
  
I'm proud of Raye. She got one of the lead roles, but it's not that much of a surprise. The part involves a lot of singing, and I don't know of a better singer than Raye. But she's humble, and if it hadn't been for the lecture she'd gotten from Mina about how wonderful a singer she was, Raye would have been prop master. Mina and I also got fairly good parts, but I didn't get the part I wanted.  
  
I hopped on stage with everyone else, and made my way to a group of people I knew. Raye and Mina were busy chatting with Eve, a sophomore who got the part I had originally wanted.  
  
Eve, a girl actually taller than Lita, had layered shoulder length brown hair and the prettiest green and brown eyes. I should be jealous that she got the part in the play I wanted, but I'm not because I know she deserves it. I saw her perform last year in the play The Long Red Herring, and she was great as one of the leading characters. I was surprised she didn't try out for Raye's part, but according to her, she sings like "a cat stuck in a trash compactor."  
  
"Hey, Serena." Mina said as I approached.  
  
I smiled and said hey to everyone before asking, "Did Mrs. Sofa say what time we were getting started?"  
  
Mrs. Sofa was our bipolar drama instructor. She's in her early fifties, short and skinny, but looks can be deceiving. One minute she is talking in her quiet mouse-like voice, then boom, she's the woman from She- Devil.  
  
Mrs. Sofa likes our meetings to be right after school, but a lot of times we don't start until thirty minutes after she had planned us to start. She's a lot like me in some ways, everything must be in order. But when everything is in chaos, she gets panicky, and the she-devil comes out in her.  
  
"We're supposed to start in five minutes," Eve answered my question with a shrug.  
  
"So, really, we're looking at another twenty or more minutes," Raye added.  
  
But, we were surprised. At the scheduled time, we started running through our lines, and by six o'clock, we had completed one run-though of the play and were allowed to leave.  
  
I gathered up my coat and book bag, and was about to leave with Raye, when Eve called my name. When I turned around, she was holding my rose, a questioning look on her face.  
  
"This yours?" she asked.  
  
Hating myself for almost forgetting it, I nodded yes while inwardly smacking myself. How could I be so forgetful to forget my rose?  
  
I took my rose form Eve, pretending not to notice her curiosity. Mina too had seen the rose, and was nearly vibrating with her peeked interest. I really didn't want to answer a whole bunch of questions. What I really wanted to do, was go home, raid the refrigerator, and go to sleep. Somewhere in that list I should have added homework, but I didn't want to do that. Silently, as Raye and I headed to the exit, I promised to tell Mina everything the next day before school.  
  
Raye and I exited the auditorium and into it's lobby, that also served as a lobby for the gym, where the sound of twenty or more bouncing basketballs could be heard. Then, I remembered that basketball conditioning was for the next two weeks. Not all that interested, I headed for the door, but Raye stopped me.  
  
"Hey, Serena, don't you want to look in on the guys? Maybe you could nab one for the dance Friday."  
  
"Get real, Raye," I said, even though I was just a tad curious. I may have a crush on one guy, but it never hurts to window shop. I might find something a little less expensive. But that little voice that kept saying it was like cheating, reared its little head. I immediately felt bad, but I tagged along anyway, knowing any arguing would fall upon deaf ears.  
  
Raye and I peeked into the open gym doors, and swooned on the spot. The room smelled of men and sweat, a dangerous combination, especially when your staring into a room full of guys, half of them with their shirts off. Across the gym, two double doors that lead to the school parking lot stood open, the setting sun showing through them and casting all present in an orange and yellow glow.  
  
The gymnasium was hot, even though it was freezing outside, but the mass of exercising bodies kept the room humid. All the heat was making my mind swim; so, I barely noticed when the basketball rolled into my foot. Barely.  
  
I looked down, and saw the orange ball, blinked, picked it up, and looked around for its owner. My eyes bulged, and I'm surprised my jaw didn't drop to the floor when I saw Darien walking towards me, naked from the waist up. His tight abs gleamed with sweat. I watched the muscles in his legs (visible because of the basket ball shorts he wore) flex as he walked in my direction. My mouth had suddenly gone dry.  
  
When he reached me, he asked politely, "Can I have my ball back?"  
  
I didn't respond at first, but Raye's elbow in my ribs brought me back to reality. I blinked while looking at his handsome face, then looked down at the ball I clutched to my chest and blinked. I handed him the ball and said, "Yeah, sure."  
  
I hated the way my voice came out a tad squeaky, a sure sign I was nervous. Why am I nervous, you ask? Well, I've never been kissed, never been in a serious relationship, and up until now, I've never seen a guy, other than my dad and brother- neither of which are a guy I have a major crush on with rock hard abs- without their shirt on. I think I have the right to be a tad nervous and spacey.  
  
"Thanks, Clumsy."  
  
And just like that, I was back to my normal self, or as normal as one can be when confronted with such a fine specimen of the male species. So, I pretended I wasn't attracted to him, more annoyed, and said, "You're welcome, jerk."  
  
He smiled at me, flashing his perfectly straight white teeth. "I'm glad to see the old meatball head is back. I was worried there for a minute. You just spaced out, but I do have that effect on people."  
  
My tongue stopped before I could get my comeback out. My mind finally registered what he just said. Had Darien noticed me checking him out? Oh dear. Wait a minute, if he had noticed, he would have teased me about it.I think. Oh, well, I can't dwell on it to long, or else I'll space out again.  
  
"Don't flatter yourself. Your ego is big enough as it is. Why would I want to add to it?"  
  
Did his eyes just change? Disappointment? No, it was just my imagination.  
  
Before we could really get into our verbal war, Raye started to complain about how she needed to go home. Glad to leave an awkward situation-for me- I turned towards the exit, calling a goodbye over my shoulder.  
  
"Bye, Clumsy," I heard him say, but I pretended to ignore it, not falling for the bait.  
  
When we exited the school, it was almost dark outside and the lights in the parking lot where coming on. Raye in I drove home in silence. I was too busy thinking about how much of a fool I must have looked like to Darien. Mentally, I kicked myself for being such a loser.  
  
"Raye," I asked timidly, "Did I look as big of a I loser as I felt?"  
  
Raye was silent for a moment, I wondered if she was trying to think of a way to dodge my question, but she answered, "It was kind of obvious to me because I know you like him. But Darien's a guy, and it's a known fact guys are clueless when it come to these sorts of things."  
  
I knew Raye was being honest with me, but I had to wonder if she was right. He had outright told me I was acting strangely. He may not have said he caught me giving him the look over, but he may have known it. I voiced this to Raye.  
  
"Serena, if he knew that you were acting all gaga because you were attracted to him, he would have said something. Besides, he's probably blaming your weird behavior on your period, like most guys do when a girl is acting strange."  
  
"Raye, I'm not having my period now."  
  
"Darien doesn't know that." She smiled, and I smiled with her.  
  
The rest of the ride home, Raye kept my mind off of the incident with Darien by keeping me laughing.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED.  
  
SHOUT-OUTS AND THANKS:  
  
INESERT NAME HERE 55: It's funny that you say this story reminds you of your own life because a lot of the things that are in the story are taken from my own life (minus the secret admirer, of course *pouts*). Heck, I might make a list of the things I've taken from my life and put it with the epilogue just for fun.  
  
ROSE: I'll keep your mean steak in mind while I write. *gulps nervously* ^_^  
  
JOEY: I'm glad you like the idea of the sheet music. It ends up becoming a huge part of the story towards the end (hint, hint)  
  
CUTE SMILE33: I'm glade you like my stories.  
  
Thank you's go out to all my readers, but those above were some that cought my eye the most.  
  
A.N.: Well I hope you liked it. Now I just have to get motivated. And what's the best motivation there is? REVIEWS!! Lol. I love to hear from you. 'Till next time. 


	4. Chapter Four

TITLE: "Mystery Valentine"  
  
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher  
  
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SAILOR MOON  
  
A.N.: Well, I finally got off my lazy behind and posted this chapter even though it's been complete for a while now. I just hoped to finish the next chapter before doing so, which I didn't do because I started to work at the end of this story and worked towards the beginning. The only part of the story unfinished is the next chapter. So for those of you who have read my previous stories and know I have yet to finish them, have no fear because this one I will finish!!!! (Since it practically already is.) SO you can't say that I've been completely lazy. Now, on with the story...  
  
CHAPTER FOUR...  
  
When I arrived at school Thursday morning, the first thing I did was update Mina and the others on my admirer. They, of course, had listened with rapt attention, absorbing every detail. But before long we were talking about other things. Tomorrow's dance, for example.  
  
"Don't forget, girls," Mina was saying, "after school we have a shopping date."  
  
Oops, I had forgotten about it. I'm just happy that my social calendar is empty so I don't have to worry about canceling anything. The thing is, I don't know why I have to go shopping for a dress. I don't have a date.   
  
Then again, neither does Amy.  
  
"Are we all going to meet at the mall or carpool there?" I asked, hoping we weren't carpooling.  
  
Every time we carpool, I'm the one stuck driving, and my poor car is trashed. Mina doesn't drive because when she's behind the wheel she drives like a maniac. Lita's out because her car's a two-seater. Raye's car is always in the shop, and Amy drives like a grandma.  
  
"Let's meet at the mall," Amy suggested.  
  
YES!  
  
"Alright," Mina agreed. Then, she switched the topic, "Anyone going to the blood drive today?"  
  
That's right, the blood drive is today. It seems I've been thinking about my admirer too much because I forgot about the blood drive, not to mention the dreaded shopping appointment. I don't know how I could forget about it. What, with all the announcements and the fact that it's held on the same day every year, who could forget?  
  
I find it ironic, though, that they always hold it the day before Valentine's Day. The heart is the national symbol for Valentine's day. And what's associated with the heart? Blood, of course. Maybe they did it on purpose.  
  
So, every year on February 13th (unless it happens to fall on the weekend, then they up it to the Friday before) anyone over seventeen is allowed to go to the library and donate blood. I knew, ever since my freshman year, that I would not donate blood. I had had blood drawn once for a physical and I hated the way my arm felt afterwards. It felt like those times I woke up in the middle of the night to find that I had slept on my arm, and because of that, my arm was completely numb. I had to hold my arm up after I had given a tiny vile of blood to the doctor. There was no way I would give a whole bag of blood.  
  
When I told Mina this, she of course said, "That's a stupid reason for not doing it. Think of the life you might save with your blood."  
  
She was right, I realized rather reluctantly. But then, I thought about the other pluses: I would get to skip class, and if played right, I could use the excuse about my arm as a way to get out of work for a little while. I smiled evilly.  
  
"Alright, I'll do it during first period. That way I won't have to listen to Mrs. Day for an hour and a half."  
  
Mina smiled and hugged me, "That's my girl. I knew you weren't heartless."  
  
Reluctantly, I hugged her back, mumbling, "Yeah, I'm not heartless, but before long, I'll be blood-less."   
  
The bell rang, and Raye and I went to our lockers. Once we had our books, we went to Mrs. Day's class to check in with her before we went to the library.  
  
I loved the library, with it's ugly brown carpet and smell of aging books. When I saw the reclining chairs and IV stands, however, I no longer felt my usual love for the room.   
  
Two people were already being set up, and since there was only two blood stations, Raye and I were left to wait for the other two students to finish. I used the time to search the library for a book that I would later use as a distraction for when they stuck me with a needle.  
  
When it was our turn, Raye and I approached the reclining chairs and made ourselves comfortable as the nurses cleaned the place around our veins and wrapped the rubber bands around our upper arms.  
  
I was able to distract myself when the needle went into my arm, but I wasn't able to ignore the tugging feeling as the blood left my arm. Then, I felt the tingling in my fingers, and the urge to stretch and move them was annoying because every time I moved them, the tingling remained until I had the urge to shake my whole arm. But I couldn't move my arm for fear of messing up the needle.  
  
"Clumsy donating blood? Now that's a scary thought."  
  
I glared up at Darien from my position, glad for the distraction because my damn book sure as hell wasn't working. "Why is that so scary?" I asked, falling for the bait.  
  
"Aren't you afraid of someone getting your disease?" I felt the grey-haired nurse tense beside me. I was about to turn to the nurse and assure her I was perfectly healthy, but Darien turned to her first. "Can you imagine the poor soul that gets her clumsy disease?"   
  
"It's more like a curse," I mumbled to myself, but the grin on Darien's face told me that he had heard too.  
  
Well, at least the nurse seems more relieved, but I was almost positive that she would stick some note on my bag of blood saying to check it for AIDS or something.  
  
My bag of blood...  
  
I glanced at the hanging bag, and felt nauseated, not at the sight of blood, but at the knowledge it was MY blood. My blood that came from INSIDE me.  
  
Quick, need a distraction...  
  
"So, jerk face, what's new?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't see how nauseated I was getting. Or worse, he'd see that needed his help.   
  
His grin left his face, and his eyes began to search my own. His scrutinizing gaze left me baffled, nervous, and I could feel the blush as it rose to the back of my neck and into my cheeks. I think Darien noticed too.  
  
"The book not working?"   
  
Damn. He realized I was using him as a distraction. A very handsome distraction, but that wasn't the point.  
  
I glared up at him, more mad at myself for being so transparent. Then as the slow pulling on my arm became more noticeable, I decided to cut the bullshit. I dropped the glare, and sighed. "No, the book's not working."  
  
"That surprises me. Every time I see you, there's a book attached to your hand. You really do need to get a life."  
  
Alright, there are a few things I don't mind people teasing me about. My clumsiness is one of them because at least I get people to laugh. Heck, I laugh most of the time. It's just a little embarrassing when Darien is around.  
  
When people tease me about my "innocence," I don't mind that either. Sure, it is a little awkward when I'm with a group of friends and one tells a dirty joke I don't get. But that's something a virgin-everything has to get used to.  
  
But when people make fun of the way I live my life, I get just a tad defensive. So, I like to read a lot; it's not their problem.  
  
"There is nothing wrong with reading," I stated defensively.  
  
"Sure there is. You need to live your own life, not the lives of fictional characters."  
  
Annoyed, I said, "I don't live their lives. I just read about them."  
  
"Sure you do," he said sarcastically.   
  
"Look," I stated, waving a finger attached to the arm without a needle in it at him, more than a little steamed. "I read about their lives because mine isn't interesting enough. You got a problem with that?"   
  
I watched his face drop, and my finger stopped waving in his face as I suddenly realized what I just said.   
  
Oops, I just shared way too much information.  
  
A long silence followed, and then Darien, the brave man he is, broke it. "You think your life isn't interesting?"  
  
I was flustered. I expected Darien would act like any other guy and change the subject. Maybe Darien wasn't any other guy. No. He was just like any other guy to me. He was uncharted territory, the road less raveled by, and that makes me nervous.  
  
I have no idea how to act around guys. Do I burp and fart, and become one of the guys, or do I flirt? Well, even if I tried to flirt, I knew I would come out looking stupid. I would over do it. My luck, I'd bat my eyelashes like Betty Boop, and he'd ask if I had something in my eye. Yup, I know what you're thinking. I'm a dork. A big one.  
  
I sighed, not wanting to continue the conversation, but my mind came up blank for ways to change the subject. I was saved, however, when the nurse I had secretly began calling a vampire said I was finished.  
  
I blinked and looked to find Darien smiling at me. It seems he was the perfect distraction, after all. I had completely forgotten about the tugging on my arm, as my mind began to focus on Darien and Darien only.  
  
Now, that I think about it, it's not that weird.  
  
I glanced over at Raye after the nurse handed me a can of Sprite and found that she was gone and someone else was in her place. I felt a little hurt because she hadn't told me she was leaving, but I figured her nurse had probably ushered her out of the library before she had time to.  
  
"Hey, Serena would you hurry up already. I need to get this over with so I can get back to physics class."   
  
I thought Darien had left, but apparently, I was wrong.  
  
"Are you up next?" I asked him.  
  
"Yes," he said, apparently in a hurry.  
  
I hid my smile with my Sprite can, as I began to finish my drink, and I took my sweet time doing it too.  
  
By the time I was finished, Darien was shifting form foot to foot, impatiently. Good. I stood up and smiled at him, but I dropped the smile when I saw the bag of blood my nurse was holding. I suddenly felt light headed, a feeling I've only felt when I haven't eaten in about eight hours. I swayed a little, but I shook my head and tried to brush past Darien.  
  
"Serena, are you okay?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah," I lied, trying to make it to the door.  
  
But I didn't make it to the door: I fainted, something I had never done in my life and never thought I would do. It was something I thought only frail little princesses did. I wasn't out long, though, because I woke up leaning against Darien's chest, my head swimming.  
  
"Vampires," I whispered, staring at Darien's white cotton shirt.  
  
I heard him chuckle even though I couldn't get my thoughts together. I tried to push away from his chest, but I realized that the arm I had my blood drawn from felt like jello. I was lead by Darien and the older nurse to the worn couch in the library and was told to rest. I tried not to, but eventually I drifted off to sleep.  
  
I awoke later to the sound of the bell, signaling the end of first period. It was odd, but when I woke up, I had the strangest feeling that someone had been caressing my face. It's bad when you start dreaming things that feel real when you wake up. I'm sure that if I went to a shrink he'd tell me I needed to take some kind of special happy-pills.  
  
Feeling better, I headed to second period. Unlike any normal day, I was last to arrive. I took my seat in the back with Amy, and told her about everything that happened in the library. She was, of course, worried about me and my health.  
  
I expected her to be concerned because not only was she my friend but because she planned on being a doctor. If someone sneezes in class, while everyone else choruses "bless you," she suggests the person to take two Tylenols when they got home. One day, she'll make a great doctor.  
  
The class was slow going as usual, but notes were few and D.I.R. (Daily Individual Reading) made up half the class period. I love D.I.R because it allows me time to read my latest book I had checked out of the library after my nap (It was the same book that had failed to distract me at the blood drive). I especially loved it today because it kept me from having to use my right arm, which was still sore form blood loss.   
  
The class ended an hour and a half later, and I was more than ready to leave, even if it was my favorite subject.  
  
I made my way to my locker and then to third period, where we, once again, had a substitute. Today someone brought a movie for us to watch. It was common knowledge that Mrs. Hart was never absent one day if she was sick, and according to yesterday's sub, she had been sick.  
  
A few people watched the movie, but the majority of the class was scattered around the class in groups, talking amongst themselves. Except for one person standing in a corner of the room by himself, and if I was correct, it looked as though Greg was talking to himself.  
  
"You know, Greg, I hear voices too, but at least I don't talk back to them," I said coming up behind Greg, a smile on my face to show I was joking.   
  
He smiled timidly in return.   
  
Greg, for as long as I've known him, has always been boyishly cute. He may have been tall and far from gangly, but his round face that was toped with a crop of brown hair, complete with cowlick, gave him that boyish look. But the thing that really gave him the impression was his large green eyes, shadowed by brown lashes so long it was a shame they were wasted on a guy. He was often shy, and it surprises me sometimes that he's with The In Crowd because of it. But he is on the track team, and anyone involved in sports is considered "worthy" at our school.  
  
"What's wrong," I asked when he gave no explanation to why he was talking to himself.  
  
He seemed nervous for some reason, and I was about to prod more when he sighed and said, "It's about a girl."  
  
Oh, girl problems. Being the curious person I was, I said, "Tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help. After all, I am a girl."  
  
He looked at his shoes, then deciding that he could trust me, he looked up and began to explain. "Well, you see, there's this girl, and tomorrow's the dance..." he trailed off, but I knew what he was getting at.  
  
"You want to ask her out, but don't know how." He nodded, and I continued. "Well who is she? If I know her, I might be able to tell you the best way to go about asking her out."  
  
"You do know her." Before I could go through my list of friends, he began to speak again. "Amy, I like Amy."  
  
I smiled, imagining the two together and deciding they would be cute together. I looked at Greg, and decided I needed to give the poor boy some advice.  
  
"Alright," I said, thinking about the information I've gathered about Amy over the years. "Amy is old fashioned, so there is no way she will ask you out. You have to do it yourself. She is shy, so whenever you ask her to the dance, do it privately and don't go overboard and get her a huge banquet of flowers. She hates for a lot of attention to be brought to her.   
  
"Hmmm. Oh yeah, don't worry about being nervous because, chances are, she will be too. She's smart, so, most likely, once you take her aside, she will have guessed what you're about to say; therefore, she will be nervous and won't notice your anxiety unless you're outright stuttering. Got it?"  
  
He nodded, "Thank you."  
  
I slapped him on the back, "Go get her, tiger."   
  
Greg walked away towards Darien and left me standing by myself. I should have been happy for Amy, but all I could think about was how I was now the only one without a date now. Bummer.  
  
I walked over to Raye, who was busy talking- or rather listening- to Rachel. As I got closer, I could tell that Rachel was jabbering about the dance tomorrow night.  
  
"I'm going to wear this awesome pink dress that comes to just above my knees. It's so pretty. It cost a fortune, but it was worth it. What are you gonna wear, Raye?"  
  
"I haven't gone shopping yet," Raye replied, board.  
  
"Well, what color are you considering to wear?"  
  
"I don't know. I was thinking black, maybe."  
  
"Black?" Rachel asked, outraged. "You can't wear black to a Valentine's dance. You have to wear red, white, or pink."  
  
"Where is that rule written? I've never heard of it."  
  
I smiled at the annoyed look on Rachel's face. "It's not written. It's just known. You know what I mean?"  
  
If looks could kill, Rachel would be a pile of ash because Raye looked ready to strangle her.  
  
"No," I said coming into the conversation, "I don't know what you mean."  
  
Raye and I shared a smile, as Rachel harrumphed and left. Raye couldn't stand Rachel, but I could tell she found it amusing sometimes to watch Rachel's ditzy behavior.  
  
Raye and I decided to watch the movie the rest of the period even though we had missed half of it. When the bell rang, we were both still trying to figure out the plot.  
  
Lunch was the same as it was every other day: the five of us met at the tree, talked, complained about the weather, and gave our usual thanks that school was almost over for the day. The only eventful thing was when Greg came over to our group and pulled Amy aside.  
  
"Bet you ten bucks, Lita, that Greg will ask Amy to the dance." I smiled, evilly.  
  
Lita, never the type to pass on a dare or bet, agreed. "There is no way he will ask her to the dance. Greg is way to shy."  
  
I waited, and when Amy came back to out group, blushing red as a tomato, I knew Greg had found the courage. Good going, Greg.  
  
"Well?" Everyone but me asked.  
  
Amy cleared her throat and dug her shoe in the dirt. While she looked at her feet, she said quietly, "He asked me to the dance. I said yes."  
  
I smiled while three other jaws dropped to the floor.  
  
"Damn, I'm out ten bucks," Lita said, after she picked up her jaw.  
  
"Keep your money, Lita. I already knew he was going to ask her out."  
  
"You knew? And you didn't tell us?" Mina asked, clearly upset.  
  
"Yeah, he told me during strings."  
  
I didn't want to tell them I gave him advice because I knew Greg would be embarrassed if I told anyone, especially Amy.  
  
"Why didn't you tell us?" Lita asked.  
  
"I thought Amy should hear it from Greg, not me," I said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me? I have strings with you!" Raye asked.  
  
I don't know why I didn't tell Raye. I guess, even though Greg didn't ask me to keep it secret, I felt it should be one. Of course, I wasn't going to tell that to Raye or any of the girls. Instead, I switched the subject to the first thing that came to mind.  
  
"I fainted into Darien's arms today after I donated blood"  
  
The subject was instantly changed.   
  
***********************************************************  
  
"How about that one?"  
  
"No, too short."  
  
"What about that one?"  
  
"Nope, too big."  
  
"What do you think of that one?"  
  
"Too dirty looking."  
  
"Mina!" Raye screamed. "The rest of us have already found our guys. Now it's your turn."  
  
After hours of shopping, we all had found a dress to wear and were now resting in the food court. Amy was sipping her water, Lita was licking her ice cream, I was eating my own ice cream, and Raye was yelling at Mina for not having picked her guy yet.  
  
Every time the five of us go to the mall, we play a game we created in which we search the mall for a guy we wouldn't mind dating. You know, our imaginary boyfriends when we didn't have real ones. It's a silly thing Mina came up with when we were younger, but it has become a ritual now.  
  
"Hey, there's one," I said pointing to a rather cute looking guy in one of the lines.  
  
"Where?" Mina asked, whipping her head in the direction of my finger, while hitting Raye in the face with her hair in the process.  
  
"He is cute." She squinted her eyes. "Alright, I've found my guy."  
  
"Okay, I have a question," Lita said, leaning back in her chair.  
  
The rest of us perked up. Whenever one of us starts a sentence with "Okay I have a question," I means one thing. It's another game we have going where one of us will ask a question and we all must answer it. What color eyes do you like on a guy? Who's the best kiss you've ever had? It was usually silly little questions, but we always have fun answering them.  
  
"What to you is the most sexiest outfit a guy could wear?" Lita asked before she leaned back in her chair and continued to eat at her ice cream.  
  
"I like a guy in only boxer shorts," Mina said promptly, before adding a sinful smile, "Smiley face boxers."  
  
Raye went next, "I think it's sexy when a guy has on only pajama pants. No socks."  
  
Amy went next, "Well, I like white lab coats."  
  
"Is the guy wearing anything underneath?" Lita asked, smiling devilishly.  
  
Amy blushed, and said nothing else.  
  
It was my turn. I thought for a minute before saying, "I like a guy in a black tuxedo. I think that black tuxedo convey a since of mystery that white tuxes don't."  
  
The girls murmured their agreements, and I began wonder if my admirer would wear a black tuxedo to the Valentine's dance. I still have no idea who he is, but that didn't stop him from asking me to the dance.  
  
After school, when I had gone to my locker, I had found a cute teddy bear sitting atop my books. Attached to the stuffed animal, was the third page of our song and letter from my admirer, simply stating he would be at tomorrow's dance before asking me if I would be there too. When I had shown the girls the letter, they had made me try on every dress at the mall until they found the one they insisted had been "made" for me.   
  
"What about you? What do you think is the sexiest thing a guy could wear?" I asked Lita.  
  
She smiled. Then, without batting an eyelash, she said, "I like a guy in his birthday suit."  
  
"Lita!" Amy yelled, embarrassed at our rather blunt, dirty-minded friend.  
  
We got a good laugh out of it, though, until something-or rather someone- caught Mina's eye.  
  
"Andrew!"  
  
Sure enough, Andrew was looking around for a table. And so was Darien. Thanks to Mina's big mouth, they saw us and headed our way. When they reached us, I couldn't look at Darien I was so shy. So, I pretended to suddenly find the ice cream at the bottom of my cone suddenly interesting.  
  
"What are you guys doing here?" Amy asked.  
  
Because Andrew and Mina were in the middle of a full blown session of PDA (Public Display of Affection), Darien answered. "We had to pick up our tuxes."  
  
"Is yours black?" Lita asked.  
  
Under the table, I gave Lita a swift kick in the shin. She jerked and yelled, "Ouch!"  
  
Everyone turned to look at Lita. Even I pretended not to know what had happened, and no one seemed to notice the glare she gave me.  
  
"Are you okay?" Dr. Amy asked.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. My foot, just, uh, fell asleep and it began to tingle," she laughed nervously, knowing that her lie was obvious. No one commented on it, though.  
  
Once Mina stopped trying to suck Andrew's tonsils out, Andrew asked, "So what were you lovely ladies up to before we interrupted you?"  
  
I smiled up at the two guys and told them, "Truth or Dare." Then, I made my eyes go all innocent as I put my elbow on the table and propped my head on my hand. My gaze was on Lita. "So, Lita, truth or dare?"  
  
Whoever said revenge was sweet sure knew what they were taking about.  
  
She fidgeted fearfully in her chair, as she tried to discern which was the safest answer. It seems she was having a hard time answering under everyone's expectant stares. I could tell she was weighing her options. Lita knew I was the keeper of some her most deepest secrets, and it would be pretty embarrassing for it to come out in front of the guys. However, any dare I happened to give her, would be seen by many, many people.  
  
Cityscape Mall was the biggest mall in the county, so, naturally, it was the biggest meeting place for teenagers. It also meant that a lot of cute guys from other schools were present.  
  
Tough choice, but she had to make it. Knowing Lita though, she'd chose dare. Lita never- I repeat- never turns down a dare.  
  
And I was right; she chose dare.  
  
I paused, trying to think of something that would be both embarrassing but still wouldn't get us in trouble with the law. So there went the idea of having her flash the pimply covered guy at the pizza booth.  
  
I looked around the room, suddenly a little worried that I couldn't come up with a good enough dare. I have never been able to come up with a good dare, and I could tell Lita knew, too, by the look I saw on her face.  
  
I thought back over my years of playing Truth or Dare, and could think of nothing that would be suitable. Then, I remembered this e-mail someone had forwarded to me entitled 68 FUN THINGS TO DO IN WAL-MART.I didn't remember many that would apply to the mall as well as Wal-Mart, but then one stuck out in my memory. Of course, it was funny to read in an e-mail, but actually doing it didn't seem that imaginative. Oh, what the hay, it's better than nothing.  
  
I scoped the food court for the perfect targets, and found them right away. Sitting at a table not far away, was a teenage couple enjoying some burgers. They were within hearing rang, so we could make sure Lita wasn't cheating without being obvious to the couple that we were listening.  
  
"Lita, I dare you to go over to that couple and ask the girl for a tampon. And for the heck of it, squeeze your legs together like you have to use the bathroom."  
  
I looked at everyone's reactions and wasn't displeased. Amy, of course, was wearing a look of horror on her delicate features, while Raye opted for a smirk as she leaned back in her chair, ready to watch the show. Mina looked amused and ready to laugh, and Darien and Andrew looked a tad horrified at the mentioning of the feminine product but were shaking with suppressed laughter in a matter of seconds. Lita, one the other hand, looked ready for battle.   
  
She squared her shoulders, stood up from her chair, and walked over to the couple. By the time the two acknowledged Lita's presence, she had already assumed The Position.  
  
With her legs wedged together, she asked the girl, "Do you happen to have a tampon I could have?"  
  
Our group laughed as quietly as we could so we wouldn't miss the couple's reaction. At first they looked confused, then appalled, then embarrassed. But, then to our surprise and amusement, the girl began to dig through her purse.  
  
Two minutes later, Lita came back to our table to find the rest of us in the middle of body-shaking, hard-to-breathe peals of laughter. Then, Lita sat down, smiled triumphantly, and threw a tampon on the table.  
  
We stopped laughing long enough to register what she had actually done and to stare at the object lying in the middle of the table. The guys looked embarrassed when they read pink writing declaring "TAMPAX" on the side of the white wrapper. Of course, the girls and I began yet another bout of laughter at the guys' reactions. Soon the guys were laughing with us, drawing the attention of many eyes.  
  
Once we calmed down, Lita called my name.  
  
"Yeah?" I asked, still finding it hard to breathe.  
  
"Truth or Dare?"  
  
"What?" I asked, not sure I had heard her right.  
  
She repeated herself, and I immediately knew I was doomed.   
  
I may enjoy revenge, but Lita does too. And she's a whole heck of a lot better at it than me. I know her deepest secrets. She knows mine. But she, unlike me, knows just how to make my secrets suit her purpose. Thus, she can twist my secrets to her whim and make them into a dare.  
  
In other words, I'm screwed.  
  
Big time.  
  
Ah, hell. "Dare."  
  
I wasn't sure why I chose dare, but my gut told me it was the better choice. I could swear I heard the funeral march playing somewhere.  
  
"I dare you, Serena, to go up to and kiss the guy of my choice."  
  
Oh no! She knew I've never been kissed, and she was purposely giving my this dare, knowing how I would react. Remember how I said she could twist my secrets into dares? Yeah, she's that good.  
  
Before I could object to the dare she so cruelly gave me, she continued, "And the guy I choose is...Darien."  
  
How'd I know that was coming? After all, why twist one secret, when you can twist two for the price of one? I was suddenly cursing my gut for making me chose dare. How bad could truth have been?  
  
Suddenly, I realized my situation. I was just dared to kiss Darien, my secret crush, when he was standing just a few feet away, listening to our conversation. I felt like I could die.  
  
"Lita," I hissed, hoping to change her mind, "you know I've, I've never...you know."  
  
"Know what?" Lita asked, knowing full and well what "you know" was.  
  
I looked up at Darien, then back at Lita, then to Darien, and back to Lita. "Lita, I can't...kiss Darien?"  
  
"Why not?" Darien asked, shocking the hell out of me. "Am I too ugly?"   
  
"No, no you're not ugly! Far from it, actua-" and then I realized that I just admitted to Darien I thought he was cute, and he seemed happy in a I-knew-she-she-had-a-crush-on-me sort of way.   
  
If I wasn't going to die before, I sure was now.  
  
"Serena, I did my dare. It's only fair you do yours."  
  
I knew she was right, so I stood up, pick up my bags with sweaty hands, and faced Darien. I couldn't read his eyes, but then again, I never had been able to before. I think he looked a tad shocked, though.   
  
With fierce determination that I knew was showing in my eyes, I gazed up at Darien. Then, ever so slowly, I stood on my toes and...kissed Darien on the cheek. Then, with speed I never knew I owned, I bolted for the exit, ignoring the calls of my friends.  
  
Lita never had said anything about where I supposed to kiss Darien.   
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
A.N.: Thanks for reading. I hoped you liked it. It's not my favorite chapter, especially after I've already written the conclusion. Please review, it might just be incentive I need to finish the next chapter quick as possible. Till the next chapter. ^_^ 


	5. Chapter Five

TITLE: "Mystery Valentine"  
  
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher  
  
DISCLAIMER: Me not own Sailor Moon  
  
A.N.: I back!!!! I know, I know, it's about time. Can't say I disagree with you. But school has started, and I've been procrastinated editing this chapter. Well, I have finished writing this story; so don't worry about me not finishing this story. All I have to do now is edit the last chapter and I'm DONE!! I also have to decide what story to write/post next. Now for chapter five...  
  
CHAPTER FIVE...  
  
It was Friday, which also meant it was Valentine's Day, the loneliest holiday for people like me, who, year after year, have spent it alone. And, it seemed, that I was spending it alone this year too. Who was I to break tradition?  
  
And where was my admirer when I needed him? He was obviously a no-show. But then again, I thought with some optimism, it was still early. Heck, the school day was still thirty minutes away form beginning.  
  
I had purposely arrived earlier to school than I would have on a normal day. If I had arrived at my usual time, I would have been greeted by a ton of happy couples mingling around the campus. Instead of being overwhelmed by the lovey-dovey couples at one time, I arrived early, and watched as they slowly filtered in.   
  
Lita was the first of my friends to arrive, and I could tell as soon as she got close enough that she was sorry for what happened yesterday at the mall. But a simple apology wasn't going to make up for the amount of embarrassment she had put me through. Not only did I kiss Darien on the cheek, but I ran like the chicken I am for the nearest exit.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, head bowed.  
  
I knew it was hard for Lita to apologize to me. She was the type of person who believed in everything they did, even if it wasn't always right. To say she was sorry was like admitting she was wrong, and to be wrong, meant she was a failure in her own eyes. It made it harder for me to stay mad at her.  
  
"Sorry isn't enough."  
  
She got mad and tried to justify her actions. "Well, what I did was only payback for what you did to me."  
  
"Lita, you know you enjoyed the attention. It's not often that you get that much."  
  
Lita knew I was right, but didn't want to admit it. I was shocked, however, when she did admit it out loud. "You're right. It was too much. I shouldn't have done it. I know how much you hate it when we tease you about your crushes. I'm really sorry, Serena."  
  
And just like that, I wasn't angry anymore. I knew it was hard for Lita to admit she was wrong, and, besides, I've never have been able to stay mad at my friends for long.  
  
"It's okay, Lita. I forgive you."  
  
Her shoulders slumped with relief, and she looked back up at me, a mischievous smile in place. "Now, tell me the truth, you enjoyed my dare a little. You got to kiss Darien. Go on, admit it."  
  
She was right, I did enjoy the kiss on the cheek that, under normal circumstances, I would have never given him.  
  
Then I wondered, "In kissing Darin, did I betray my admirer?"  
  
Lita thought a moment, "No. First, you're not going out with your admirer; so you can't call it cheating. Second, you can't really betray someone you don't know and have no relationship with. And third, how do you know Darien isn't your admirer?"  
  
"Get real, Lita. Look at him and then look at me. Why would someone like him want to go out with someone like me?"  
  
"Well, I am looking at you, and I see nothing wrong. If you ask me, you have just as good at chance as any girl in this school. No, you have a better chance."  
  
"You're just saying that because you're my friend."  
  
"No, I'm not. You know Darien well enough to know that he wouldn't go out with someone as self centered as Alana. That narrows the field down a lot."  
  
"But Alana is pretty. Guys like pretty," I said sadly.  
  
"You don't think you're pretty?" I shook my head. "Girl, I'd kill to have you blond hair and blue eyes. You don't find that combination that often anymore. Well, natural, that is."  
  
"Alana doesn't think I can get a boyfriend."  
  
"Alana's just a jealous bitch."  
  
That made me smile. She was a bitch, and someone else agreed with me.  
  
"Well, that's one thing I won't disagree with you on, Lita," I said smilingly, as I noticed the girls approaching us. Mina seemed to be her normal happy self, but it looked as though poor Amy was getting a tongue lashing from Raye.  
  
"Do you have to drive so slow?" Raye was saying to Amy, who had her head bowed and was trying not to allow anyone to see her blush. "I wanted to have enough time to see Chad before class, but with the way you drive, I'm just happy we got to school on time."  
  
Poor Amy. While I get stuck driving Raye home, Amy has the job of driving her to school, which is worse because Raye is not a morning person and, she tends to take her frustration out on the first person she sees in the mornings: Amy. Mina and Lita got out of car pooling because they live no where near the three of us. Lucky them.  
  
"Cut it out, Raye," I said, trying to defend Amy from Raye's morning wrath. "You have plenty time to see Chad. The bell doesn't ring for another twenty minutes. So if you want to get enough make-out time, I suggest you get a move on and search for your lover-boy."  
  
Raye glared at me, checked her watch, saw that I was right, and smiled at the possibility of twenty minutes of PDA before school started. "If you'll excuse me," she said, leaving the rest of us to talk.  
  
"Hey, uh, Greg wanted to see me before the bell rang to, uh, look over his history report for him," Amy said fleetingly before she disappeared in the crowd of teenagers.  
  
"Andrew wanted to see me too. He said he had a surprise for me," Mina giggled while leaving Lita and I to watch her retreating back.  
  
"So, I guess it's just me and you again," I said smilingly.  
  
"Actually, Serena," Lita said, her face uncertain. My smile dropped a little. "I told Ken I'd meet him after I apologized to you." Then she hastily added, "But if you don't want me to leave, I'm sure he'll understand."   
  
I could tell Lita didn't want to leave me alone because she knew I'd feel deserted, and I did. But I couldn't be selfish; I can't always think about myself.  
  
"Go find Ken, Lita. It's okay. I need to go to Mrs. Day's classroom anyway. I need to make up a test I missed yesterday while at the blood drive."  
  
Of course, I was lying. There was no test that needed to be made up, but I knew Lita would have felt bad about leaving me alone unless she knew I had something else to occupy my time.  
  
I watched her smile happily before going off to meet Ken. I knew I shouldn't, but I suddenly felt betrayed, like my friends found their new boyfriends more important than me. But I shouldn't be jealous that they're wanting to spend time with boyfriends and not me. It's Valentine's Day for Pete's sake. They should be spending it with their valentines. I know if I had a Valentine, I'd spend the day with him.  
  
IF I had a valentine.  
  
I had an admirer, one who seems to have forgotten me, not a valentine. But maybe by the end of the day I'll have one. In the note my admirer left in my locker yesterday, he asked me to the dance. I assume he'll tell me who he is tonight. But you know what they say about assuming: "It only makes an ass out of you and me."  
  
Of course, I've already made an ass out of myself yesterday at the mall. How much worse can you get?  
  
"Hey, Clumsy. Your friends get tired of you?"  
  
It seems that I spoke too soon. Well, damn.  
  
Chewing on my bottom lip, I turned to face Darien, scared spit-less. It seemed I had three options: One, I could act like yesterday never happened; two, confront Darien about the subject; or three, turn tail and run to the nearest ladies room. Choice number three was completely out of the question because it would only be a repeat of yesterday, and from the amused look on Darien's face, there was no way in hell he was going to pretend it never happened.  
  
"Listen, Darien, about yesterday. It was just a stupid dare. So, you better not tease me about it," I said, proud that not one ounce of hysteria could be heard.  
  
I wasn't going to mention the fact I had fled from the scene of the crime, and I was happy he didn't either.  
  
"Okay, I won't tease you about it," he said with a shrug, and I sighed with relief. "However, I do wonder why you didn't kiss me on the lips."  
  
Suddenly, my lungs had a hard time taking in air, and it was all I could do but continue to stare him in the eyes as I tried to come up with an answer. Did I tell him the truth and say, "I've never been kissed before, and although I have dreamed for the past month and a half that you give me my first kiss, I didn't want it to be the result of a dare?"   
  
Uh, yeah right! It just screams pathetic loser.  
  
Or do I make up some silly excuse? "Gee, Darien, I wasn't feeling good yesterday, and decided to spare you from getting sick." Or maybe, "Gosh, Darien, I guess my aim was a little off" would be a better excuse.  
  
Sometimes I find it easier to be truthful, but I wish it wasn't so personal. But of course, he wouldn't know I've never been kissed. He's probably, more or less, curious as to why any girl-namely me- wouldn't want to kiss him.   
  
"I've never been kissed."  
  
There, he knew. It was out in the open. He could chose to tease me with this new information, or he could just leave it alone. The ball was in his court now. Funny how some people say a weight is lifted off their shoulders when they tell someone a secret such as mine, but my shoulders just felt heavier as I waited for his reaction.   
  
"Oh," he said looking down at his shoes.  
  
That's it! I told him one of my biggest secrets, and all I get is an "oh." This is the kind of information that deserves to be printed in a newspaper. I can see the headlines now: PRESIDENT AND FOUNDER OF THE NBK (Never Been Kissed Club) SHARES HER STORY. A fucking "oh!" was a fucking understatement. Well, at least he isn't laughing and pointing at me.  
  
Uncomfortable, I said, "Well, now you know."  
  
He looked up and smiled, and I braced myself for some teasing comment. "Well, you had me thinking it was me. I didn't know if I had something in my teeth or something hanging out of my nose." He chuckled, shaking his head. "That's a relief."  
  
He actually thought the reason I hadn't kissed him had something to do with him? I thought anyone's immediate thought, had they seen yesterday's little event, would be that something was wrong with me. What normal, straight teenage girl wouldn't want to kiss Darien?  
  
He looked every bit a prince charming, and he even acted like one when he wasn't calling me Clumsy. He had every quality girls--me included--died for. Surely, anyone could have seen that it was the blond girl with the problems yesterday.   
  
I didn't feel comfortable telling him my thoughts, however, because if I did, it would be like waving a red flag in his face while I scream at the top of my lungs "I like you, big boy! Now kiss me till my legs feel like jello and my head is swimming!" Nope, not my style. Heck, I didn't have enough courage to tell the guy "nice shirt" because I feared that any compliment I gave him would give away my attraction to him.  
  
Suddenly the urge to explain why I had never been kissed overcame me. I didn't want him to think I was a loser and couldn't get a date, which could have been partially true, but there were other reasons, aside form the fact men scared me a little.  
  
"My dad's a little protective of me, and I've just never had the..." I trailed off realizing how stupid I sounded. Wasn't telling guys you have an overprotective father one of those things you never supposed to tell a guy you're interested in? I made a note to myself to ask Mina later.  
  
Covering up for my little mishap, I asked, "So are you going to the dance with anybody?"   
  
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that my question had been no better than my first statement. Surely he now had an idea that I liked him? After all, sounding interested in his dating life was just like another red flag showing my feelings.   
  
There was a glint in his eyes when he said, "I'm meeting someone there."  
  
I took every ounce of strength I had to mask my disappointment. He was meeting someone at the dance? Then that meant he was taken. It meant he was officially off limits. I had no chance with Darien, and I knew I might as well face the music and give up.  
  
Usually I'm a pretty headstrong person, and if I wanted something bad enough, I got it. But it was always different with guys. At the first sign that the guy was sniffing after a girl, I automatically gave up. I didn't go chasing any guy, and I didn't moon after them either. I guess I could blame it on my mom, who preached to me when I was very young that guys didn't like girls chasing after them, that they liked a girl who seemed unattainable. I guess after a while her lectures added to the strong morals my parents passed down to me, I began to believe that it was wrong to go after an attached guy, even if he wasn't officially attached.  
  
I realize now that maybe it was stupid of me to give up once a guy started showing interest in another girl. After all, the girl may have no interest in the guy. I could still stand a chance with the guy, but no one liked to be second best.  
  
I watched as Darien put his hands in his pockets, and inwardly sighed. Darien was officially attached...wasn't he? If he was meeting a girl at the dance, didn't that mean the girl was interested too? Therefore, even if I didn't choose to give up this time, his first choice obviously liked him. Why else would she be meeting him at the dance?  
  
"I'm meeting someone at the dance too." I blurted out. Thinking of my admirer and the note he left in my locker the previous day. Even though I wasn't officially "with" whomever my admirer is, I felt the urge to mention him to Darien, so I wouldn't look like a complete loser in his eyes. Of course, I didn't mention the fact I have no absolutely idea who the person I was.  
  
The glint was still in his eyes when he asked, "Really? Is it a boy?" The way he asked the question, it made him sound like he just one of my best friends teasing me.   
  
Damn it! What can't he show an ounce of jealousy? Although, I thought, if he was to show some jealousy, I doubt I'd recognize it because I've never had a guy to become jealous over anything about me.   
  
"Yes, it's a boy," I said, trying to feign annoyance. Then as an afterthought to try and provoke some of that elusive jealousy, I added, "A very cute boy."  
  
But instead of showing any outward signs of envy, he just smiled and changed the topic. "Do you think Mrs. Hart will be here today?"  
  
"Probably, but I could be wrong."  
  
He nodded in agreement, and one of those annoying awkward silences swallowed us. Not knowing what to do, I began looking at anything but Darien.   
  
I noticed that a lot more couples had arrived and were exchanging gifts. Girls all around me were holding teddy bears, boxes of chocolates, and roses, their usually soothing smell making me want to gag.  
  
I suddenly felt extremely emotional and alone. I didn't want the gifts; I already got those from my admirer. No, what I wanted was someone who I could hug and kiss and say girlishly, "Oh, the flowers are lovely! Thank you!"   
  
I sighed. Life may be like a box of chocolates, but it sure as hell wasn't like a romance novel.  
  
"Serena," Darien asked, drawing my attention back to him. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you were alright yesterday after the blood drive. But, um, you're okay now, right?"  
  
Moved because he concerned about me, I nodded. "Thanks, but yeah, I'm fine now. I'm just never going to allow any more vampires at me." I laughed shakily.  
  
"You scared me to death when you fainted," he blurted.  
  
I blushed and looked down at my feet. Why would he be scared? I just fainted. Heck, it's ME we're talking about. ME! Why would he worry about poor little 'ol Clumsy? I wasn't even out long!  
  
"I just fainted," I said, trying to sound as if I thought it was nothing, but I didn't sound convincing even to my own ears. Luckily Darien either didn't notice or chose to ignore it.  
  
He opened his mouth to say something, but the bell rang. I smiled apologetically, and headed in the direction of my locker.  
  
"See you in strings!" I heard him call.  
  
I smiled. I had just had a rather good conversation Darien. Even if Darien wasn't my valentine, I can at least call him a friend now, in my eyes at least. Whether he sees me as a friend is up to him, but I sure hope he does.  
  
Maybe that was my problem: my strategy was all wrong. In the past, whenever I liked a guy, I would try to become friends with him, get to know him. But every time I did this in the past, I always ended up in one of two outcomes: the guy either considered me one of his best friends/like a sister, or I found out the guy was a complete jerk, a drunkard, or a druggy. Usually, we just became good friends.   
  
From now on, I wondered, should I just try to jump into a relationship with a guy?  
  
I went to my locker, which was void of anything related to Valentine's Day, and walked with Raye to first period.  
  
As I once again spent the class period starring out the window, I began to wonder why I ever decided to take algebra over. I should be taking statistics, but no-o I had to be dumb and take a class I took three years ago. I'm actually surprised I was allowed to take the class again. Usually the councilors won't allow students to take classes they already have passed, but somehow Raye and I slipped through.   
  
First ended, and, heavy lidded from my nap in first, I walked to second and entered the empty classroom, empty except for one person.  
  
Kyle Johnson was without a doubt the most popular guy in school--just ask him and he'd tell you he was. He was the star quarterback and not in my second period, so I was a little stumped as to what he was doing in the classroom.  
  
"Serena?" Kyle asked when he noticed me.  
  
Stupefied that he was talking to me, let alone knew my name, I was at a loss for words but managed a few. "Err, yes?"  
  
He smiled. "Serena, would you liked to go to the dance with me tonight?"  
  
I looked at him like he was crazy, which he was for even asking me. Sure the guy was popular, but he also a jerk who likes to drink. I know this because Sean mentioned Kyle's name when he was describing one of his wild parties. Kyle was the guy who got on the coffee table and danced with the ceiling fan.   
  
It didn't take me long to answer. "No."  
  
He looked confused. "What?"  
  
"I said 'no.'"  
  
"No what?"  
  
Was this guy stupid? Did he not understand English? I suddenly found it very ironic we were standing in my English classroom.  
  
"No, I won't go to the dance with you."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
I sighed. All morning I had silently complained about my single-ness, and here is this guy asking me to the dance. Normally, I might have been flattered to be asked to the dance by any guy--even Kyle--but today I wasn't. I couldn't get this morning's encounter with Darien out of my head, and he was the only guy I wanted to think about. Besides, I don't even know Kyle.  
  
Sure, I don't know my admirer--wait, I don't know WHO he is--either, but I can tell just by playing the song he wrote that he likes me. Who knows, I might know my admirer, after all, once I find out his identity. Too bad when I figure out whom he is I have to tell him I'm not interested.  
  
Yeah, I have officially decided that the only reason I'm going to the dance tonight is to dump a poor guy I'm not even dating, and maybe to catch a glimpse of Darien...and my competition.  
  
"I just don't want to go to the dance with you," I answered simply, knowing it as a blow to his ego, and turned around to find a seat in the back as the class started filing in. I opened my D.I.R. book and began reading.  
  
When class ended, I was more than ready to head to third period. Maybe I'd have another lengthy conversation with Darien. With that hopeful thought in mind, I crossed the courtyard and made my way to the building that housed my third period class.  
  
Rachael, Raye, and Avery were waiting outside the classroom door when I got there. It seems Mrs. Hart was late as usual. When Rachael saw me, she did something completely odd but totally in her character. She made a small scream and nearly lunged at me.  
  
"So?" she asked.  
  
Confused, I asked, "So-o what?"  
  
"Don't be coy with me. What did you say? You said yes, didn't you? I just knew you would," Rachael babbled.  
  
I looked over at Raye and saw she was as confused as I was. "Whoa. Back up. What did I say yes to?"  
  
Rachael looked into my confused eyes and smiled. "Quit kidding. I know you said yes to Kyle. He did already ask you, right? I'd hate to blow the surprise for you. I mean that would-" Rachael was cut off by three rather shocked voices...  
  
"Kyle asked you to the dance?"  
  
"You're going to the dance with Kyle?"  
  
"How did you find out he asked me?"  
  
The last question came form me, but instead of waiting to listen to Rachael, I turned to see who had asked the other two questions. And there, standing side-by-side, shock in their eyes, was Darien and Raye. I would have laughed under normal circumstances, but right now my mind was reeling.  
  
Rachael was answering my question: "Well, Kyle told Brian he was going to ask you to the dance, and Brain told Chris, who told Jason, who told his girlfriend, who told Kristy, who told Jessica, who told me. So did he ask you to the dance yet?"  
  
"Yes, but-"  
  
"I knew it!" Rachael exclaimed, hugging me. I didn't return the hug, however, because I was still reeling at how fast news spread through the school.  
  
"Serena?" came Darien's strained voice. I turned to look Darien, and he asked, "Are you really going to the dance with Kyle?"  
  
"No," I answered looking into his eyes, trying to decide what the expression on his face meant.  
  
"I thought Kyle asked you to the dance?" Rachael asked, baffled.  
  
Still looking Darien in the eyes, I answered her question, "He asked me to the dance, but I turned him down." And suddenly the expression on Darien's face changed, and he looked...relieved? Happier? I couldn't tell.  
  
"Why in the world would turn Kyle Johnson down?" Rachael wanted to know.  
  
"Would you like the abbreviated version?" I asked, finally looking at her now that she stopped hugging me. She ignored my joke, so I gave her a simple list of his flaws. "He's too wild, he's a jerk, and he's not my type. Besides I'm already meeting someone at the dance."  
  
"Who are you meeting? Your admirer?" she asked sarcastically.  
  
"Yes, my admirer," I said, my voice a tad venomous. "At least he cares about me."  
  
"And how do you know that Kyle doesn't care about you?"  
  
I sighed. And then, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, I told her, "If he cared about me, he wouldn't have waited till today to ask me to tonight's dance."  
  
"Maybe he was shy!" Rachael argued back. I gave her a "you're stupid look." and before she turned around to stomp off into the classroom that was now open because Mrs. Hart had arrived, she said, "I'd kill to be Kyle's date to the dance."  
  
Raye was laughing as we entered the classroom together, and I couldn't help but smile too.   
  
When everyone was inside the classroom, Mrs. Hart began yelling out instructions for everyone to retrieve their instruments. In reply, she received a groan from every one of her students. After two days absent of playing, it seemed that we had gotten lazy. We argued that it was a holiday, and we should get the day off. Mrs. Hart argued that we had had the past two days off. But in the end we compromised. So instead of playing our instruments, we played Musical Bingo.  
  
Everyone got a black music stand and bent it back so that it made a rudimentary table of sorts. I dragged my stand to where Raye and Darien were already sitting, and the three of us formed a triangle. Mrs. Hart passed out the bingo cards and torn pieces of paper to be used as bingo chips, and gave us all time to cover our free-space, which was actually a cartoon drawing of a conductor, who looked remarkably like Hitler. Only, he was smiling and pointing a conductor's baton at me like Harry Potter would his magical wand.   
  
Every card had the same Hitler conductor in the middle and the same pictures of symbols and terms often seen in sheet music. The only differences in the cards, was where each of the symbols was located. It was really a cheesy rip-off of the original bingo, but I'd take cheesy-German-dictator-bingo over playing the violin any day.  
  
"Am I blind?" I mumbled to my card during the second round, frustrated that I couldn't find the square on my card that had the dotted half note on it.  
  
"Must be," Darien said, leaning over so he could see my card clearly. Then he had the nerve to point to the square that held my dotted half note in it.  
  
I glared at him, though halfheartedly because I was enjoying his attention...and his nearness.  
  
"You like being a pain in the butt don't you?"  
  
"Staccato!" Mrs. Hart called the next square.  
  
Both Darien and I looked down at are cards, and found the square with a quarter note with a small dot underneath it.   
  
"I like being your pain in the butt," Darien teased once he had placed a piece of paper over the square.  
  
"Well, don't feel special because you're not the only pain in my aspirin. Raye is too."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
I turned to Raye and pretended to notice her for the first time. "Well, hi, Raye, how long have you been sitting there?"  
  
Raye smiled wickedly then leaned in closer to me so only I could here. "I've been sitting here quite some time, not that you'd notice, of course, with the way you're flirting."  
  
"I have not!" I said in a fiercely screeched whisper, which, quiet and forceful as it was to the ears, hadn't hid the doubt underlining it.  
  
"You were too! Gosh, it wouldn't have been more obvious if you had been playing footsy."  
  
"I would never play footsy!"  
  
"Cut time!" Mrs. Hart called the next square.  
  
Raye opened her mouth to retort, but instead of hearing Raye's usual silky voice, I heard Darien's deep baritone call out "Bingo."  
  
Both Raye and I turned to look at Darien and then at his bingo card. Sure enough, going diagonally from top right to bottom left were five little pieces of paper.   
  
Mrs. Hart made him call out the his squares that made up his bingo, and when she was satisfied that he had, indeed, a bingo, she tossed him a red heart-shaped sucker, with KISS ME written on it.   
  
I stared longingly at the sucker. That morning I had, rather reluctantly, even though I knew it was for the better, skipped breakfast so I could get to school early, and I was now, at a little after twelve, starving. The gum I had snagged from a sophomore during first in hopes to subdue my cravings had long since lost its flavor, and my hunger pains were back in full force.  
  
I know a sucker's not enough to curve anyone's cravings, but maybe the sweet taste of strawberry would distract me. Therefore, I made it my mission to win the next round.   
  
Four rounds later, I was still sucker-less. Class was over in five minutes, and there was no more time for another round. But at least it was five minutes till lunch. YIPPY!!!  
  
Together, the class cleaned up the cards, the bits of paper, and put the stands back in their proper place. Once the room was as clean as it could get (Which is not very clean because of all it's clutter and the fact that the dingy tile floor wants to come up as the result of the perpetual leaking roof), the class grouped around the door.   
  
Raye and I, weary of crowds, moved away from the gaggle of students to the piano.  
  
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Raye said abruptly as I began performing scales on the piano, skipping the keys that were missing.   
  
"Hmm?" I let her know I was listening.  
  
"Chad's giving me a ride home this afternoon. He rented a tux, but he wants me with him to make sure I approve of it. So, you don't have wait for me after school."  
  
I sighed with relief. Last night, after Mina had gotten home from the mall, she had called me to ask if I was okay after my embarrassing moment and to cheer me up by telling me about the look on Darien's face after I had run off. She described it as the classic deer-caught-in-the-headlights shocked look. Of course, I had doubted Mina's interpretation of Darien's expression. Before this morning's conversation with him, I would have bet everything I owned that it had been a look of horror and disgust Mina had seen, but after this morning, I just didn't know anymore...  
  
Anyway, somewhere during our conversation, the dance had been brought up. I made the mistake of telling her that I planned on driving myself to the dance in my rather crappy looking Honda.  
  
Mina of course had protested to the idea. "What if you're admirer wants to drive you home? Or, maybe take you somewhere after the dance?" She added the second part as a sexual innuendo, to which I ignored.  
  
I hadn't told Mina or any of my friends that I planned on breaking some guys poor heart because I knew they were dead set on making me un-single and would object at the mere idea of me dumping this guy without giving him a chance.  
  
In the end we--make that Mina--decided that I would pick Mina up at her house where she would have her dress, shoes, and other necessities ready, and we'd go back to my house and get ready together. Then at eight, Andrew would pick us up and take us to the dance, where, as Mina put it, I would meet my "dreamboat," fall madly in love, and hitch a ride home--or elsewhere--with him.   
  
Seems easy, but we forgot about Raye, who I usually give a ride home. But, now that loose end has been clipped.  
  
"Okay. Fine with me," I told her.  
  
"Can't you play something other than scales?" Darien, feigning irritation, said as he approached us.  
  
"For your information, I can play a lot more than scales," I said boastingly.   
  
I knew that he knew I could play more than scales, after all he heard me play my admirer's song (Funny, I'm no longer calling it "our" song) Wednesday, but I like bickering with him. It was fun. Maybe, though I hate to admit it, Raye was right. Maybe I am flirting. And if that was true, then my prediction was also accurate: any flirting I do, is scarily obvious.  
  
He smirked, and I glanced him over, and noticed he was twirling my desired sucker between his thumb and forefinger at his side. The flashing red, had caught my attention.  
  
I looked at Darien. "You know, you're supposed to eat that, not twirl it," I stated, referring to said sucker.  
  
He raised the sucker and began twirling it in my face just to annoy me. It worked. I swatted at it, and he grinned slightly at my reaction.  
  
"I have another purpose for it."  
  
"What?" I asked, once again enjoying trying to outwit him. "Are you going to shove it up your-"  
  
"Serena!"   
  
"Nose," I finished. Then I turned to Raye who had interrupted me, smiling innocently, I asked, "What did you think I was going to say?"  
  
Raye just laughed, turned, and left Darien and I alone. Still smiling I turned back to Darien. When I saw the serious expression on his face, my smile dropped.  
  
"No, Serena," he said, "I was going to give the sucker to you...in exchange for a kiss." He held up the sucker, so I could read the KISS ME written on it.  
  
What the hell? was my first thought.  
  
Is he for real? was my second.  
  
He was looking so serious that I couldn't tell if this was just another part of his teasing to see what I'd do. He wouldn't actually ask me for a real kiss after what I confessed this morning...right? I wanted to kiss him, I realized rather shockingly, but I wasn't willing to do it in front of so many people only to find out it was a joke. Besides, I've never been kissed. This was neither the place nor the time to denounce my position as president of the Never Been Kissed Club.  
  
So, I decided to act like I knew it was a joke and that it had not effect whatsoever on me. Which was of course a BIG FAT LIE!  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I can't kiss you. No one dared me to." I smiled a smile any actress would be proud of.  
  
His grin was back, but his demeanor was tad off, I think, for someone who found my answer amusing. But I could be wrong. I've been known to be wrong a few times, unlike Amy, whose always right.  
  
"What if I dared you?"  
  
Holy crap! What is he thinking? Is he trying to provoke me into admitting I like him just so he can tease me about that too? Is he just trying to make me give him a kiss he feels I was supposed to give him yesterday? Or dose he REALLY want me to kiss him? But the main question is, why would DARIEN, of all people, even mention the thought of kissing me?  
  
"You haven't asked me truth or dare yet."  
  
Oh shit! I am flirting! Why would I do THAT? I didn't even know I could flirt. Heck, I still don't know if I'm doing it right.  
  
"Alright," he said moving closer. "Truth or dare?"  
  
TRUTH! TRUTH! TRUTH! TRUTH!   
  
"Dare."  
  
Well that's it. I need to go find a shovel and start digging my grave because I'm dead.  
  
"I dare you..." he said in what could only be described as husky, "to kiss me," he said moving closer, yet again. He was so close now that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Suddenly I forgot the presence of the group of students gathered at the door, and I most certainly forgot Mrs. Hart, who, should she find us in such a compromising position, get me into a lot of trouble.  
  
But I'm already in trouble, not with my parents or the school, but with myself. I'm on the brink of a panic attack and I can't seem to stop my body from moving towards Darien...   
  
The bell rang.  
  
I bolted for the door.  
  
Like the Julia Roberts ran right before she said "I do," I run right before my lips are silenced by another's. Would that make me the Run Away Kisser? I am a loser, a chicken shit of a loser.   
  
After I ran from the strings room, I burned rubber to the lunch room, where I got my pizza and made another mad dash to the library, where I decided to hide out for fear of running into Darien.  
  
Mrs. Daisy, the assistant librarian, gave a disapproving glace at my pizza but said nothing because she knew that the head librarian Mrs. Pinkly absolutely adored me. Besides, she knew I wouldn't dare make a mess in the room I liked most out of all the other rooms in the school.  
  
I sat down at one of the many wooden tables and woofed down my pizza. When I was finished, I threw away my Styrofoam plate in the proper trashcan. I had just opened my library book, when Raye snatched it away form me.  
  
"Here you are," she said, still holding my book.  
  
Mrs. Daisy sent a reproachful "shh" her way, which Raye rolled her eyes too.  
  
"Why are you holed up in here?" she asked.  
  
"I thought I would finish my essay for Mrs. Robinson."  
  
"While reading this?" Raye asked, holding up my book.  
  
"Fine, I'm hiding. You happy?"  
  
"From Darien, right?"  
  
"How'd you know?" I asked with a sigh.  
  
"I saw what happened at the end of third. I also saw you bolt like a rabbit with a fox on it's tail. Why'd you chicken out this time?"  
  
"Same reason as before."  
  
"Don't lie to me, Serena," she said warningly.  
  
"Alright, he more or less asked me to kiss him this time."  
  
"So why the hell did you run?" This earned her another "shh" from the crabby assistant librarian.   
  
"Because he was going to kiss me," I said in an urgent whisper.  
  
"And that's a bad thing?"  
  
"I know it was all a joke on his part."  
  
"You are dense. I saw everything, and he wanted to kiss you."  
  
"How in the world do you know that?" I wanted to know.  
  
"He was nervous!"  
  
"And how do you know this?"  
  
"The closer he got to you, the faster that damned sucker would spin between his fingers."  
  
"Is that the universal sign for a guy who is nervous?"  
  
"What did you expect? Do you actually see him shaking his foot like Thumper in the movie Bambi?"  
  
"Well no... but still, how does a spinning sucker signify nervousness?" I asked, not seeing where Raye was getting with this.  
  
"When some people are nervous they don't know what to do with their hands. I'm that way. Whenever I'm on stage, I cling to the mike. Some people fool with their hair. In Darien's case he spun the sucker."  
  
"I didn't see him spinning the sucker."  
  
"Trust me, he was."  
  
"Well, I still don't believe that he even really wanted to kiss me. He's already interested in someone else," I said forlornly.  
  
"What makes you think that?"  
  
"He told me he was meeting someone at the dance."  
  
"Did he said it was a girl he was meeting?"  
  
"No, but-"  
  
"See there, he could just be meeting a group of buddies or something."  
  
I hate to admit it, but Raye had given me some hope. I just hate knowing that it might be fleeting. I'd find out tonight if she was right.  
  
"Come on, let's go back outside."  
  
I agreed, but before we were halfway to our usual spot, the bell rang. We went our separate ways, Raye to English, me to psychology. I met up with Mina in the hallway and she immediately asked where I had been. Then, she not-so-casually mentioned that Darien had come up to her, Amy, and Lita and asked where I was.   
  
I pushed any thoughts and curiosities I might have into the back of my mind as I entered Mr. Grant's classroom.   
  
Today we spent the class period talking about a woman who was fine one moment and then the next she thought she was a light post. We also learned about a guy who thought he was a glass of milk. We spent the whole class period asking questions like, "What would happen if you approached him with a straw?" "What if you pretended like you wanted to dunk a cookie in him?" Class, as usual, was memorable.  
  
"There'll be no homework tonight," Mr. Grant was saying, shutting off the overhead after a glance at the clock, which showed the school day was coming to an end. "I know what you're thinking: I'm the greatest teacher on earth. But I just know that if I were to give you some, ninety-five percent of you wouldn't do it anyway." The class laughed, but was cut short when Mr. Grant silenced us due to the beginning of the afternoon announcements being chirpily yelled through the intercom by the senior class president.  
  
She went through her usual spiel about upcoming events, such as the school play, the first basketball game of the season, the Beta Club's newest fundraiser, and, of course, tonight's dance.  
  
The final bell rang, and a throng of students made their way to their lockers, the school parking lot, and the car and bus waiting ports. Most of them juniors and seniors thinking of the dance.  
  
Normally, if I had a date, I'd be dreaming of the dance, too, but all I could think about was ways to let this guy down easily.   
  
Then, a new thought struck me: What if the whole admirer thing was just a cruel joke? I didn't know whether to be maddened or relieved at the thought. I should be mad that someone would be so mean, but I was relieved because their was a small hope that I wouldn't have to turn someone down.  
  
But if it was a joke, who would spend hours writing a piece of music just for a stupid, but cruel joke? No, it wasn't a joke. Somehow, I knew it.  
  
I reached my locker, and I wasn't surprised to see a small white card laying on top of my algebra book. It simply said:  
  
See you tonight.  
  
If I wasn't so confused, I might have found it romantic. But I saw the short note as a reminder of what I was dreading to do. But Raye had ignited a small hope inside me today in the library, a small hope that Darien may like me.   
  
I usually prize myself as being more of a realist (Even if a stupid quiz on the internet said I was more aesthetic), but for some reason, that small hope weighed more on my scale of importance than my admirer did.   
  
Maybe the quiz was right after all.  
  
When I reached the school parking lot, Mina's Beatle was parked beside my Honda, and I could see her sitting inside, singing to the words blaring from her speakers.   
  
I knocked on a window. She turned, saw me, then reached to lower the volume of her radio. The window I was looking through rolled down, and I poked my head inside.  
  
" 'Bout time you showed up," she said, looking in her rearview mirror and brushing at her bangs.  
  
I shrugged my shoulders. "The hallways were crowded."   
  
"Well, anyway, I just wanted to remind you that you're supposed to go to my house and pick me up after you drop Raye off, or however you plan on getting her home."  
  
I leaned against her car, not worrying a moment about scratching the paint. "Raye got a ride home with Chad. So, I guess I'll be following you."  
  
"Okay, well, I'm outta here."  
  
And she was. I watched as her green Beatle (Nicknamed "Little Booger") spun out of the school parking lot.  
  
I shook my head and unlocked my car. As I slid into the driver's seat, I glanced around the parking lot. I wasn't surprised to see Kyle Johnson and his group of buddies off to the side comparing car motors. There weren't many girls presents, but I assumed it was because most of them were trying to get to their hair appointments on time.  
  
I turned the key in the ignition, and looked up from the steering wheel just in time to make eye contact with Darien.   
  
Eye contact is a very dangerous thing, especially when it's with a hot guy. I was once in a car while Mina was driving, and she happened the make eye contact with a cute guy who was about to turn onto the same road as us. Mina had maintained eye contact and had driven off the road, narrowly missing a mailbox. She would have hit it, too, if I hadn't jerked the wheel.  
  
And even though my car wasn't moving, I still knew I was in danger, but not physically. No, I was in danger emotionally because Darien was heading my way, and I knew he would want to talk. He would, of course, tell me that what happened in strings was just a joke, that he meant nothing by it, and I wasn't willing to have that small amount of hope I was clinging to be crushed.  
  
So, I acted like I didn't notice that he was moving steadily towards me and waved casually and pulled out of my parking space. I tried not to gun it out of the parking lot, like Mina, but as soon as I was on the highway heading towards Mina's, I went as fast as I could without going too far over the speed limit.  
  
I reached Mina's house in record time, having ran a few stop signs when I felt it was safe. She was waiting for me when I pulled into her driveway.   
  
She had the back door of my car and was laying her dress across the back seat by the time I had locked the parking brake. She dumped her huge make up bag in the floor board, along with a shoebox.   
  
She closed the back door, only to open the front passenger side door and jump in the car, her purse and a banquet of white roses in her hands.  
  
"Come on, let's go. We only have four hours to get ready!"   
  
I thought four hours was plenty time, but I didn't voice my thoughts because I knew Mina would go into some long speech that I really didn't want to listen to.  
  
On the way home, I stopped at a McDonalds, against Mina's wishes, to grab something to eat. But after I explained that, as of yesterday, my mom had become obsessed with health food, and dinner at my house would not be enjoyable, she had agreed to wait ten minutes in the drive through.  
  
"Dad had gotten a physical done last week," I told Mina, "and the results showed he had high cholesterol. When I go home from the mall yesterday, she dragged my to this health food grocery store. I had no idea you could make so many things with soy."   
  
Mina shuddered and patted my arm in sympathy. "School food is looking a whole lot better," she laughed.  
  
I laughed with her, and then reached one hand for my fries at a red light.  
  
I pulled up in my driveway, and unbuckled my seatbelt. After shoving the McDonald's bags under my car seat to hide any evidence of our meal, I got out to help Mina drag her things inside.  
  
In the living room, Sammy and one of his friends were hammering on the controls of the Play Station Two, they and completely ignored our presence. A very good thing, if I say so myself. Mina and I said hello to my mother and politely declined dinner before rushing up the stairs to get ready.  
  
After we had taken our showers, we did our nails, hair, and make-up. Mina had insisted on doing my hair, and I didn't argue because I knew she would do a better job than I could even dream of doing.   
  
By ten minutes till eight, both of us were starring at our reflections in the mirror. I stared enviously at Mina in her long golden spaghetti strapped dress. Together, we had managed to get her hair up with a ton of bobby pins and hairspray, but the final project turned out to be a work of art. Two white roses from the bouquet Mina had brought were pinned in her hair. Mina giggled at her reflection and batted her blue eyes, dusted with gold eye shadow.  
  
She looked beautiful, like one of those rich women going to a fund raiser ball, where she would sip wine and gossip among the other high class women.  
  
I didn't know what I looked like, but Mina assured me I looked beautiful, but I wasn't so confident. I just wondered if she was telling me that because I was her friend.  
  
I stared at the white peasant style dress that came to just above my knees. It had looked perfect on me when I tried it on at the mall, but now I wondered if it made my hips look bigger than normal.   
  
Mina had used fat curlers to roll my hair, and when she took them out thirty minutes later, my hair had been a wavy golden sea. I had liked the curl at first, but now I wondered if it made my head seem too big for my body.  
  
I had done my own make-up, but had immediately washed it off and had asked Mina to do it. She had done a much better job than I had, but I couldn't help but wonder if the lipstick she had applied made me look pale.  
  
I voiced my insecurities to Mina, and she turned away from her reflection to look at me in shock.   
  
"You look beautiful, Serena."  
  
"You look beautiful, Mina. I look pale and plain."  
  
"Serena, you look anything but plain. You look like one of my porcelain dolls."  
  
I was surprised at the comparison. Mina had shelf upon shelf of porcelain dolls she had collected since she was a child, and each face was a work of art. I had always loved going to her house and admiring the pretty dolls and their dresses, and begging Mina to allow me to hold one.  
  
"You really think so?" I asked, wanting to know if she really thought I was as lovely as her dolls.  
  
I smiled at Mina when she nodded and suddenly felt confident of myself as I placed on my strappy white heels that went with my dress.   
  
At least, I was confident until I heard the doorbell ring, which announced Andrew's arrival.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
SHOUT-OUTS AND THANKS:   
  
  
  
MARY J.W.: Oh, it is such an honor to have you review my story! I read your fanfics before I even concidered writing my own. Thank you for your complements! (I loved your story "I'm Bringing You With Me")  
  
LEEZA: lol Here's your update! Thanks for taking time to e-mail me.  
  
JERRI: Thanks so much for your encouragement!  
  
A.N.: Hoped you liked it! Sooo sorry for the cliffhanger! But the next chapter is almost finished, ao I'll try not to put off editing it. Till next chapter. 


	6. Chapter Six: The Dance!

TITLE: "Mystery Valentine"  
  
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher  
  
DISCLAIMER: See other chapters  
  
A.N.: *Ducks Head* Sorry for the delay! I had no idea a month had gone by until one of my dear readers e-mailed me and brought me back from wherever lala-land I had been in. So we all owe this person a huge thank you. *a chorus of "Thank you Nunnya Buiznes"* And thanks to everyone who took time to review: frozen fire,Tiffany,Sabriel, Pyro-Girl, samsonite, ondongo3, Denial, Ami D'Aqua, Leeza, and all the others that I love to type out but don't have enough time to if I want to post this tonight. Love ya all!  
  
EVERYONE, PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTES AT THE END OF THE STORY!!  
  
CHAPTER SIX...  
  
I was nervous as hell.  
  
There was no other way to describe the anxiety I was feeling or the physical torture I was going through. I kept fidgeting in the backseat of Andrew's car, trying to listen to his conversation with Mina, but my mind seemed to like torturing me by reminding me of where I was going and who I was going to meat. My hands wouldn't stay still and kept moving from my lap, to the door handle, to the annoying loose string hanging off my dress.  
  
I'm glad Mina and Andrew offered to give me a lift to the dance because the way I kept squirming, if I had driven myself, I would have not gotten to the dance in one peace. But I think Mina had other motives for offering me a ride: She was afraid I would chicken out and not go to the dance, a very good possibility  
  
I eyed door handle, while estimating the possible speed the car was going. We didn't seem to be going too fast. I reached for the door handle, and when it didn't open, I cursed the childproof locks and their inventor.  
  
I began to perspire, and my hands went clammy. Not good. When I get seriously nervous, I get flushed, which makes me really uncomfortable. I rolled down the window even though it was below forty outside, but it still felt like a sauna inside the car to me.  
  
"Serena!" Mina screeched. "Put that window up! It's freezing outside, and the wind is messing up my hair."  
  
Forlornly, I rolled the window back up, and immediately began to sweat.  
  
"Serena, why are you so nervous? It's just a dance? Mina asked.  
  
"Just a dance! It's my first major dance!"  
  
"Oh that's right, you didn't go to the prom last year. Why is that, by the way?"  
  
I was having a near panic attack, and she wanted to ask me why I didn't go to the prom last year. That's Mina for you.  
  
"I can't dance!" I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest and began to pout.  
  
That's right, I can't dance. It's just another thing on my things-that-make-me-a-loser list. I used to dance with my dad when I was little, but I'd always stood on his feet, but after a while, I got too old to stand on his feet. And by that time, all my aunts, uncles, and second cousins were already married; so, Dad never had another opportunity to teach me.   
  
"You can't dance? Why didn't you tell me? I could have gotten Andrew to teach you."  
  
"Thanks but no thanks, Mina. I'll just stand along the wall the rest of the night."  
  
"What if your admirer asks you to dance?"  
  
"I'll say I broke my toe."  
  
I heard Andrew laughing from the drivers seat, and I pouted even more. He looked into the rearview mirror and gave me a smile. "Don't worry, Serena, Darien's a really good dancer. His mother taught him to dance really young before...Anyway, if you dance with him, it will feel like your dancing on a cloud. That is how you girls say it? Right, Mina?"  
  
I stared at Andrew, confused. Then I looked at Mina and saw the look she shot Andrew.  
  
"You told Andrew?" I exclaimed, pissed.  
  
"Yes, Serena, but-"  
  
"No buts, Mina. You told! Why? You know he's Darien's best friend."  
  
I can't believe she told Andrew I have a crush on Darien. He would have every opportunity to tell Darien, and then, my life would be over. I can just see my tombstone now: Serena Matthews, a loving friend daughter, and president of NBKC, died of embarrassment. Even my afterlife seems bleak.  
  
"Don't worry, Serena," Andrew stated calmly. "I didn't tell Darien, or anyone, for that matter."  
  
I met his eyes in the rearview mirror, and realized he was telling the truth. Slowly, some of my anxiety vanished. Key word here: some. I just lost my worry about Darien knowing of my crush; I was still nervous as hell about the dance.  
  
*&&*&&*&&*&&*&&*&&*&&*&&*&&*&&*&&  
  
We pulled into the already filled school parking lot ten minutes later. My heart jumped when I saw all the cars. It looked to me that more people decided to show up for the dance than school. I don't remember there being this many cars in the parking lot on a normal day.  
  
Trying to calm my breathing, I followed Mina and Andrew to the gym. I attempted not to trip over any cracks in the sidewalk on my journey to the gym and was surprised that I made it there in one piece.  
  
The three of us entered the gymnasium, and was surprised at all the decorations. Red and white helium balloons tied too long strings were floating across the ceiling, while more balloons someone had spent time to blow up were scattered across the floor. Pink and white crepe paper was stung across the ceiling and walls, and, along with the helium balloons, it gave the ceiling a sort of whimsy parachute appearance.  
  
A few chairs and round tables were scattered along the walls, and in the center of each table, there was a small vase that held one white rose apiece. A long table ran parallel to the left wall, and different types of snacks covered its top. At the very back of the gymnasium, the dance committee had set up a stage of sorts, where a live band was already singing into their microphones. A piano and DJ station were off to the side to be used whenever the band went on their break.  
  
The only lights in the room were a few strategically placed strobe lights and black lights that made anything white glow. I figured I would shine like a beacon in my white dress.  
  
We made our way through the crowd to where our friends were standing near the snack table, sipping punch. I suddenly wished that the crowd would part for my friends and me, like it does for characters in movies. But of course, this wasn't a movie; it was my life.  
  
When our friends noticed us, they smiled and waved us over. I admired each of the pairs, as I got closer.   
  
Amy, in the knee length pale blue dress we all picked out for her, looked quite elegant standing next to the tall and lanky Greg, who had somehow managed to slick back his cowlick. Both smiled bashfully at us.  
  
Lita wore a floor length pastel pink dress that made her look more feminine that she usually did. Her arm was laced through Ken's, and her head was rested on his shoulder. She was more at ease with her date, than everyone else.  
  
Raye and Chad's stance looked more like best friends than dates. She had her elbow resting on his shoulder, while his arm encircled her waist. Her dress, a very short red halter-top, looked rather revealing in my opinion, but Raye looked completely at ease in the dress. Chad looked rather dashing in his tux. He even pulled his shaggy hair away from his face in a ponytail. I'm sure it was Raye's doing.  
  
For the first time that night, I saw got a good look at Mina and Andrew together. Andrew wore a white tux that seemed to compliment Mina's gold dress.   
  
I looked at all my pretty friends and suddenly felt like a plain Mary Jane. I looked down at my dress, that looked, if possible, worse than it had in my mirror at home. I looked around me, and suddenly felt lonely even though my friends surrounded me.  
  
"Serena, you look great," Lita smiled, and I felt a tad better.  
  
"Thanks," I smiled for their benefit. "I'm going to go get some punch. Be right back."  
  
I left them, and made my way to the table, hoping that the red liquid would soothe my jitters. I took one of the already filled glasses, and turned to look at the swarm of people in the gym.  
  
The Valentine's dance was a lot like the prom; the main difference being the prom usually takes place at a hotel lounge, never in the gym. But the same rules for prom apply for the dance: You must be a junior or senior unless you are the date of a junior or senior.  
  
Alana and her group were dancing as close as they could to the band, their hair managing to stay in place even though they were bobbing their heads with the music. I saw Rachel dancing with non other than Kyle Johnson, wearing the dress she had described to a board Raye yesterday. Silently, I wondered who she had to kill to be able to go to the dance with him. After all she had said she would "kill" to be able to go to the dance with him.  
  
There were a few people I recognized, but I was slightly surprised when I saw Eve standing near a guy I recognized as a junior. She didn't tell me she was going to be here, and she didn't look like she was having much fun.  
  
I took another sip as jealousy reared its ugly head. Why couldn't I be out there, dancing with a guy? What was so revolting about me? I sighed and took another sip of my punch, wishing it were a pint of cookie dough ice cream. I also wished that instead of looking at a group of happy teenagers, I were watching a cheesy romance movie on TV.  
  
Well, you know what they say: You can wish in one had and crap in the other, and then you can see which one fills up first.  
  
"Hey, Clumsy."  
  
I groaned out loud for Darien's benefit, while on the inside my heartbeat sped up. Taking a rather large gulp of my drink, I turned to face the most handsome guy I've ever seen, on the big screen and off.  
  
He looked dashing in a black tuxedo, which clung to his broad shoulders, and made him look like all the princes from the fairy tales I used to read as a kid. Underneath his tuxedo jacket, he wore a silver vest over a white dress shirt. I knew all the layers had to be uncomfortable, but he looked completely at ease, as if he was born to wear a tux. His hair remained slightly disheveled like any other day, and I watched as he brushed his long bangs out of his eyes, an unconscious habit I'd come to love over the past month.   
  
I sighed wistfully, before smiling slightly at Darien. "Hi, Darien," I said, not bothering to fake cheerfulness.  
  
"Something wrong?" He asked.  
  
I turned to stare at the dancing couples, just as the band began to sing Brain Adams's "I'll Be Right Here Waiting." I loved that song. I sighed once again as couples started to slow dance.  
  
Turning back to Darien, I said, "Nothing's wrong."  
  
He gave me a look, took my drink, threw it away, and grabbed my hand and slowly lead me to the dance floor. Confused I followed.  
  
"Care to dance?" He asked me, smiling.  
  
"I," I looked at my feet, blushing a rosy red. "I can't dance," I mumbled.  
  
Darien's hand came under my chin, and his index finger slowly lifted my head, forcing me to look in his eyes. I shivered at his touch and the look in eyes.  
  
"What did you say?" he asked quietly, his smile gone.   
  
"I want to dance with you," I said hurriedly, wanting to let him know I was more than flattered before adding, "but I don't know how." I coughed, and then trying to act like it didn't matter, I said, "Besides, weren't you supposed to meet someone here?"   
  
His smile returned, and he said teasingly, "Yeah, I did meet someone here, but I don't think any of the guys on the basketball team would want to dance with me."   
  
I laughed, more at ease. So Raye was right: there weren't any other girls in the picture.   
  
Darien turned more serious. "It's not hard to dance; just follow my lead."  
  
"What if I step on your feet?" I asked, hoping to get out of what was bound to be a disastrous event.  
  
"Then I'll step on your feet," he said, smiling evilly, before looping his left arm around my waist and taking my left hand into his right one.  
  
I stared down at my feet while he began to lead me in a dance, and I managed not to step on his feet--a miracle in itself. Being so close to Darien was suddenly making my senses go haywire as his cologne, a mixture of roses and cinnamon, was making my mind swarm. The hand that was holding mine was so much bigger than my own, and took time from looking down at my feet to I marvel at its size and how small I felt in his arms. His touch, though strong, was gentle, and I felt protected in his arms.   
  
I felt whole.  
  
It was odd how I was suddenly feeling everything romance writers like to describe in their books. Even more confusing was how I was feeling them all at the same time.  
  
"You know, Serena," he chucked, "you'll never learn to dance if you keep staring at your feet. Let me lead you. Trust me."  
  
I did trust him. So, I did something I never thought I'd have the courage to do: I moved my arms to around his neck and laid my head on his chest, where I could hear his steady heartbeat. I let the rhythmic drumbeat of his heart slowly hypnotize me until I was drowsy.  
  
"Serena?" He whispered later.  
  
"Hmm?" I asked, lifting my head--rather reluctantly--from his chest.  
  
He didn't say anything, instead he lowered his head. Was he going to kiss me? I wondered even as my eyes drifted close. I could feel his warm mint breath on my lips, and my heart began to beat faster in anticipation.  
  
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard someone say something, but it was quickly overlooked.  
  
Unexpectedly, I felt the loss of Darien's breath on my lips, and felt as his body began to move away from mine. Confused, I opened my eyes to find Darien looking at someone to his right.  
  
I blinked back the haze over my eyes so I could clearly see the guy looking at me rather than Darien. Everything began to come into focus, and I realized, shocked that the band was no longer crooning the slow song. Instead, a DJ was currently playing the latest song by Pink.   
  
How long had we been dancing? More importantly, why had we stopped?  
  
"May I cut in?" the guy was asking Darien.  
  
HELL NO! I wanted to yell but didn't.  
  
I looked Darien in the eyes, silently pleading him to tell the guy no, but I watched sadly as he allowed the guy to take my hand. My eyes followed his back when he walked away.  
  
I turned to the guy wanting to dance with me and said, "I'm sorry, I don't feel up to dancing anymore." I brushed past him, uncaring if he was disappointed.   
  
I pushed past people, intent on my destination: The ladies' room. I shoved open the door and entered the small room, the florescent lights momentarily blinding me. I was surprised to find it empty, but not unhappy. I entered a stall for my privacy, in case someone decided to come in the restroom. I latched the stall closed, closed the toilet lid, sat down, and forced myself not to cry.  
  
I had never cried in public, and I was not about to start now. Even if a bathroom stall wasn't exactly public, when I left it, which I would eventually have to do, the signs of crying would be there. I couldn't let my mascara run or let my makeup get smudged because everyone would be able to see I had been crying like a child.  
  
So I wouldn't allow myself to cry over Darien because he obviously didn't care enough about me to say no to that guy and keep on dancing with me. I wouldn't cry over my no-show secret admirer, either.  
  
I realized that I didn't care so much about my admirer anymore; it was Darien's rejection that was causing me so much grief. And I hated it.  
  
Someone entered the restroom, but I ignored her and the running water. I breathed in calmly, exhaled, and blinked rapidly to get rid of the moisture in my eyes. I stood up, brushed away the wrinkles in my dress, and flushed the toilet for the benefit of whoever was in the bathroom.  
  
I exited the stall and came face to face with Eve's reflection. She was calmly putting on a fresh coat of lip-gloss.   
  
"Hey!" I said, hoping my voice sounded cheerful.  
  
"Hey, Serena. Enjoying the dance?"  
  
"It's okay, but I came stag. So dancing's hard by yourself."  
  
"Oh, I understand. My boyfriend Jack brought me, but failed to mention he wasn't feeling well when he called me tonight. I insisted he go back home and rest. He wouldn't listen, and he dragged me to the dance anyway. I still got him back, though." She smiled, "I refused to dance with him because he refused to go home."  
  
I laughed a genuine laugh. "So not only does he suffer because he's sick but because you won't dance with him."  
  
"Well, he finally relented. He's taking me home as soon as I get out of here. Bye, Serena. See you Monday." She left.  
  
I stared at my reflection, and was happy to notice there weren't any signs of near crying. I washed my hands and was reaching for a paper towel when Raye stormed in, hands on her hips.  
  
"Alright. What happened?" I told her everything, and she quietly listened. When I was finished, she said, "Well, I don't know what to tell you, except to go out there and pretend it had no effect on you. Who knows, your admirer still might make his move."   
  
"I don't care much about my admirer anymore, Raye."  
  
"You don't?"  
  
"Not after I've danced with Darien."  
  
"Well, don't give up totally on your mystery man. He could prove to be better than Darien."  
  
"No one would be better than Darien."  
  
Raye just smiled and winked at me before she left.   
  
I watched the door swing close, thinking how weird my best friend was. She could be more mysterious than the phantom in Phantom of the Opera. I squared my shoulders, and exited the restroom, my eyes once again adjusting to the change in light.  
  
Across the room I saw my group of friends. Did they ever dance? I wondered. I saw no sign of Darien, and I figured that as a good thing. I pushed through the mass of bodies just as another slow song began, this time a piano solo. The room immediately became quieter as the couples slowed their dancing, and any talking was done in a hushed whisper.  
  
I watched as everyone of my friends began dancing with their dates, but instead of looking at their dancing partners, they were all staring at me with a goofy smile on all their faces. What in the world were they up to?   
  
I slowed my pace as I neared them and allowed myself to listen to the notes of the piano solo that were gradually filling the gym.   
  
The music seemed oddly familiar, and I strained my ears to hear it. That's when I recognized it...  
  
Oh, God.  
  
I came to a complete stop, my eyes bulging in my head. The song that was being played was the song my admirer had written for me.  
  
So my admirer hadn't been a no-show, but that still doesn't change that fact I care more about Darien than my admirer. Dang it, this only complicates things. Now I have to turn down a perfectly nice guy because of my feelings for someone else. Why can't my life be easy?  
  
I turned and faced the direction of the piano, but couldn't see who was play for the dancing couples. Without realizing it, my feet propelled forward, dodging people as I made my way towards the piano.   
  
I'll admit that I was curious, and that was why I was walking to what was surely to be my death. I could just ignore the song and let the guy hang in the breeze, but that would be cruel. I had to face him, tell him I didn't return his feelings, even if it embarrassed the stuffing out of both of us.   
  
I know it would hurt the guy either way, considering he would have just finished playing our song, but at least this way I won't leave him wondering whether or not I had left early or had been in the restroom where I couldn't hear him play.  
  
I suddenly wished that I could be like Alana and laugh off any advances that came my way. But I had too much heart; I know what it's like to have someone not return my feelings.  
  
And now I was going to do that to some poor guy. I felt like a shit.  
  
I broke through the crowd and stopped dead in my tracks because sitting at a piano as black as his hair, was none other than Darien Shields. His bangs were hanging over his eyes, and without the use of his hands to push them back, they remained in his face.  
  
I must have gasped out loud because Darien suddenly looked up, straight into my eyes. He continued to play, having memorized the song.   
  
Darien can't be my admirer; it was too perfect. And perfect is only in fairy tales, not real life. Even if they did happen on rare occasions, they wouldn't happen to me. I wasn't lucky enough. I have a reputation as being unlucky; it goes along with my being clumsy.   
  
But when Darien smiled uncertainly at me, the fear of rejection showing in his blue eyes, I figured that, somewhere out there, someone was making it up to me.  
  
I smiled back at him, and for the first time, I saw him smile a genuine smile, one that reached his eyes. Compelled by his smile, I approached the piano bench.  
  
Lying beside him on the bench where I would have sat was the fourth and final page of our song.   
  
I picked it up, and skimmed over it before I sat down beside him and propped the music on the piano. I smiled at Darien one last time before I began to play the upper octave of the song.  
  
When I joined in with him, the music seemed to come to life, becoming louder and fuller, filling the gym with its soothing notes. It was our song.  
  
I felt free, brimming with euphoria. Everything around us slowly faded away until it was just Darien and me. When I first played our song in front of others, I had tried to up with a picture in my mind to go with the notes that had been written for me, written by Darien. Now, I had not only found that picture, I was living it. At this moment, when the black lights, the crepe paper, the balloons, and the people around us blur and all sound but the sound of our song fades away, I'm living our song.  
  
The song ritardandoed to an end, and unlike the first time when I played for an audience, no one was left hanging. Now, everything seemed balanced, perfect. The room had the same feeling one has when just finishing a satisfying meal.  
  
An applause startled me out of my reverie, and I gazed at the large crowd of dancers. I blushed and turned to Darien, who was smiling at me. The band, fresh from their break, returned, and we were forgotten about.   
  
"I didn't know you could play the piano," I said for lack of better words, pushing back his bangs from his eyes.  
  
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," he said, stroking my cheek.  
  
"I'm willing to learn," I said rather boldly, blushing even redder.  
  
He smiled, and searched my eyes. Then, using the hand not stroking my face, he extracted the sucker from strings class out of his tux pocket. I read the KISS ME on it, and had to smile. So he had really wanted to kiss me earlier. His eyes searched mine for the answer to his unspoken--more like written--question.  
  
My eyes darted down to his lips, he saw the encouragement he needed, and he leaned in and gave me my first kiss. It was short and chaste, but it still sent my emotions soaring. I used to worry about my first kiss, wondering if I'd do it right since I've never been kissed before, but it seemed almost like instinct.  
  
When he pulled back, he smiled, knowing what the kiss had done to me. "You didn't run," he stated. I groaned and playfully punched him in the arm, but not hard because I still couldn't function properly.  
  
Once I had my bearings, I asked, "How did you do it all?"  
  
"Well, honestly, I had a little help from Raye."  
  
Raye had helped him? If that was true, then that meant...she had known all along that my admirer was Darien. I whipped my head around searching the crowd for my dark haired friend. I found her and all my friends standing fifteen feet away, smiling sweetly. When I caught her gaze, she just smiled bigger and waved.   
  
Mina had her ever-present star-struck look, while Amy just smiled innocently. Lita on the other hand had her hands clasped together and was batting her eyelashes while making a kissing face. My friends. What a bunch they are.  
  
Shaking my head, I turned back to Darien and asked, "How?"  
  
"Well, at first I wasn't sure how to admit I liked you. I figured I could pump Raye for information about you since she's your best friend. She told me about your secret admirer fantasy, but I didn't believe that you would want that. So, she purposefully made you confess you had that fantasy in front of me to make me believe."  
  
He looked down at his hands, embarrassed. I found it very endearing. "Well, once I found this out," he continued, "I had Raye show me where you locker was so I could slip the note into it on Monday. I also got you e-mail from Raye, and then your locker combination so I could put the rose and bear inside."   
  
He smiled lopsidedly, "So now you know."  
  
"Now I know," I agreed. I sighed, "There's just one problem."  
  
I watched his smile falter. "What?" he asked.  
  
I sighed again for effect, "I have to kill Raye for not telling me."  
  
He grinned, "I would help you, but I owe her."  
  
"Hey, Serena," Mina teased coming up behind me along with the other girls.  
  
"You guys knew the whole time?"  
  
"Just Raye. She told us about everything while you two were dancing so we would have front row seats when the show started," Lita said from her position on Ken's arm.  
  
"Hey," Rachel said coming up to our large group. "Can I take your picture?"  
  
For once, Raye didn't seem annoyed that Rachel was near. We all nodded our heads and got into position. She took the picture and smiled at us.  
  
"Thanks guys, I'll have you each a copy by Monday. Oh by the way, Serena, Darien, you guys make such a cute couple."  
  
After Rachel left, I took a good look at my group of friends and then at Darien. I realized I had just lived through my very own fairy tale.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
THE END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
A.N.: Well that's it...the final chapter of "Mystery Valentine." This could be a happy thing to some...or a rather disappointing thing for others, who after reading this, may want more. I don't have a sequel planned, and, honestly, I don't think I will be writing one. But I want your input on my next story. Would you like to see another high school love story? Do you want Serena to be an adult? Do you want some drama? Action? Mystery? Murder? DO you want it from first person or second? Do you have a plot, story line, or scene you want me to write? Please tell me what you want to see in your reviews or e-mails, and you just might see it. (Hope that didn't sound too much like an info-commercial because it did to me.)   
  
Mystery Valentine By Dream Catcher Romance/Comedy © Oct 2003 


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